For Queen and Country
by Buddhacide
Summary: An attack on Anna's life turns Kristoff into the cold, bitter Governor of a naval business that monopolizes ice, fur, and spice and employs private armies to wreak revenge. Elsa and Anna must now confront a monster they helped to create: Arendelle's chartered, rapacious, empire-building corporation, the North Mountain Company! Can the royal sisters defeat – and save – Kristoff?
1. Vengeance from the Past

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY **

**A Frozen Fanfiction**

* * *

_An attack on Anna's life turns Kristoff into the cold, bitter Governor of a naval business that monopolizes ice, fur, and spice and employs private armies to wreak revenge. Elsa and Anna must now confront a monster they helped to create: Arendelle's chartered, rapacious, empire-building corporation, the North Mountain Company! Can the royal sisters defeat – and save – Kristoff?_

Disclaimer 1: I don't own Disney's Frozen or any of its characters.

Disclaimer 2: As this story is (an attempt at) a drama about Arendelle's transformation into a naval empire through Kristoff's North Mountain Company, it will feature OCs.

Disclaimer 3: This story definitely **not** a celebration of colonial entities like Jardine, Matheson and Co. or the East India Company. It's about the struggle between Queen Elsa and the political and military interests of a powerful, 1840's-style chartered corporation (as far as I can tell, Arendelle's environment and technology resemble the early nineteenth century). It's about the bond between two sisters tested as they try to stop the North Mountain Company from committing crimes in the Crown's name, and to redeem a fundamentally good man.

I hope you enjoy this fanfic as much as I enjoy writing it. If you like it, why not leave a review or some feedback for improvement. :D Have fun! ^.^

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**Chapter 1**

**Vengeance from the Past**

The sled was always his pride and joy. It had been a gift bestowed on him from the highest power in the land. To this day he found it hard to believe: the sovereign herself, the body politic of Arendelle's people, had deigned to grant a royal warrant to his then-bankrupt ice business. There was not much in life that could surpass the pride of watching Sven pulling this sled except for one thing: the medallion the reindeer wore every time Kristoff rode out to meet powerful merchants from other empires and principalities. It was emblazoned with the personal coat-of-arms of the Snow Queen, the ever-familiar insignia of the snowflake.

It meant nothing less than this: as far as Elsa was concerned, Kristoff represented her family and her personal interests.

Was there any higher honor, any greater trust invested in a humble ice trader like him?

Life was good. There was even better news on the way, though he wouldn't know until he reunited with his beloved. His princess – literally.

The sky was an almost blinding blue, and the cries of seagulls complemented the salty harbor air that had become a common smell to Kristoff. Garbed in his usual unkempt outfit, he closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It had become an increasingly acquainted smell to him, to the point that he was as at home sailing as in the snowy woods or the Valley of the Living Rock.

It wasn't enough to simply travel to bordering towns or neighboring kingdoms with Sven to trade in bags of ice, no matter how large. Shipping demands to other great nations and empires demanded seafaring expertise and technology, of which profit-minded Kristoff was more than willing to learn. He already had invested almost half of his gold reserves into a magnificent sailing ship christened, "Rime Clipper". It had more than enough deck space to accommodate ice and other products for an entire town.

"Good thing it was licensed before I had to set sail this time round," he muttered, sighing to himself. "I'll be needing another one soon. Here's to paying off my debts."

As he slipped off his leather gloves and looked over the ship's balcony, Kristoff couldn't help smiling as he glimpsed that instantly recognizable grin on the planks of the dock. She was waiting for him down there, giving him a goofy spin in her lime-green blouse and black top. She stood on sandaled tiptoes and waved frenziedly, prompting a quiet chuckle from him.

The gorgeous Anna would have looked like any common citizen – were it not for the small, modest tiara nestled at the top of her red tresses. Its snowflake crest indicated a station higher than any aristocracy.

"Got anything for me?" she shouted, calling up at him through cupped hands.

The plank slammed onto the dock floorboards, and Kristoff was the first one to stride down. He hurried over to his princess and held her in a firm but tender embrace. "Nothing. Except this," he said, pulling away, before drawing in to kiss her expectant, waiting lips. She clutched his broad shoulders, which sheltered her petite form protectively. They breathed in deeply, sighing at the sensation of each other's skin and clothing. He smelled of sea salt, she of wild flowers. She giggled, mindful of his desire after many weeks away at sea as he clasped her tighter. They remained like that for several long, splendid moments, completely oblivious to the chuckling sailors on the Rime Clipper.

"So, how's it going, mister Ice Master?" prompted Anna, looking perkily up at her boyfriend. She ran her fingers slowly through his ruffled blond hair, smiling slyly.

"Our holdings beyond Arendelle grow by the day," said Kristoff, stroking Anna's cheek. His hand made its way to her pigtails. "Fair, but robust competition with the other ice traders. I don't want to shove my government-backed advantage in their faces."

Anna looked over Kristoff's shoulder and gave a playful glare at the peeping sailors, who chortled and quickly retreated from the ship's edge. "And how do you plan to do that?" she asked, turning her fickle attention back to Kristoff.

"Business is simple. Just offer something your rivals can't. I've been thinking about expanding my goods – on the side, of course. I'm still Her Majesty's official Ice Master and Deliverer," he added quickly, noticing Anna's rising eyebrow. "I mean, I've been travelling the world, talking to so many rulers and big shots. Their courts can now keep food good for as long as they like. And that means new opportunities. Ice-related opportunities. For example – " He leaned in to whisper a business secret in her ear. "Ice cream. Fresh fruit. Fresh spices. Anything that ice can help preserve, we should trade in too. We have a cool combination," he insisted, ignoring Anna as she rolled her eyes at the pun. "The product range is near-limitless. And everyone stands to win from this trade, from the Moors to Pride Rock."

"Did you bring back some ice cream?" demanded Anna.

"Mix milk and cream with the chocolate at the palace, and you get a dessert that's just… amazing. I packed some of it into the ice on the way back. I'll show you later."

She took his arm eagerly, and they led each other towards the market and beyond to the long bridge that connected the island castle to its dominion. They spoke of their blissful present, and their anticipated future together. After all, Kristoff was someone more than a commoner; he was a man with the Queen's favor and her sister's heart. More than that: he had the latter's hand in marriage. The knowing smile on Anna's joyful countenance, and the shining ring on her left hand's third finger, told more than any words could express.

But unbeknownst to them, the shadowy, cloaked figure that had been trailing behind them amongst the ignorantly heedless crowd had disappeared into the brick walls behind the market square.

Its beady gaze never left the princess's back.

* * *

The private court with the Queen was in session.

Kristoff knelt on one knee and looked down at the floor, as was royal protocol. On the surface, he was just a humble subject of Queen Elsa. But both he and the beautiful monarch observing his supplant form knew that it wasn't so simple. As her Ice Master, Kristoff not only had been granted a royal warrant, but an official charter for his expanding business. His products were not only personally approved by Elsa, but if threatened by marauding pirates on less predictable sea routes, his partners could appeal for the intervention of Arendelle's Royal Navy.

In a few short years, Kristoff had become the country's most influential merchant. This era was, without a doubt, the height of Arendelle's prosperity.

"I read your report. The commercial treaty with the Kingdom of DunBroch will reap immense rewards for your firm and for Arendelle. Your techniques and technology of ice sculpting will enrich their people's livelihoods, while the taxes I collect from your business swell my government's coffers ever more." Elsa's smile was broad and radiant. Her blonde ponytail draped around her neck and lingered over her half-bared shoulder, as if coyly covering her vulnerability. Her blue eyes shimmered with noble but sometimes passionate emotion. Her glittering, patterned mantle, fashioned from the supernatural curse-turned-blessing of her hoarfrost powers, draped around her sapphire, body-hugging dress. Her almost ethereal youth was exactly as he remembered when he first saw her in the midst of her self-conjured blizzard several years ago.

She had almost been murdered, and were it not for Anna's selfless bravery, their entwined fortunes might have been dramatically different. Now he was poised to earn even more gold for Elsa, who didn't use it to show off her increasingly powerful kingdom: nothing flash or vulgar, just comfortable, self-assured, manor-dwelling royalty.

"You need a greater fleet of commercial ships, don't you?"

"If that is possible, my Queen."

"Legislation is essential to ensure this is done fairly and at no one else's expense," declared Elsa, her gentle but authoritative voice echoing throughout the throne room. "Purchase as many as your accounts allow you to borrow gold. Your writers also reported that some ice shipments were lost to bandits and thieves? That's not helpful when you have debts to pay to your shipbuilders."

"It's a sensitive thing to do, protecting my fleet with the Royal Navy," admitted Kristoff. "Better that I submit an appeal to incorporate my business. I can't run the show as your Ice Master and Deliverer forever, Elsa – I mean, Your Majesty – " he quickly said, berating himself silently for letting the rigid mask of politeness slip (he was still getting used to this even after three years). " – I'm just saying that it would be better for everyone if I just set up my own company. And you'd be protected from criticism about special favors, too."

"Please, call me by my name, Kristoff," replied Elsa indulgently. "You're right, in any case. Your business has expanded so rapidly that you can't call yourself a sole trader, or even a partner. You need legal recognition beyond my blessing. Please submit an appeal to the Ministry of Trade. I will give royal assent whenever you wish." Her hands were usually placed delicately on her lap, but now she raised a thoughtful finger to her lips. "Have you thought about the name?"

"I want to call my business after the place you built your first castle," said Kristoff quietly. "The chartered North Mountain Company – that would make a statement. And affirm my loyalty to you and the Crown."

Elsa lowered her flushing face, self-conscious. "Anna says you don't talk much, but when you do, your words taste like honey."

Kristoff moved on quickly. "And my accounts' tax returns – "

"Worry not. A flat tariff will remain in place until the next parliament of my government. When my people have elected a new Prime Minister, I'll advise him that the rate should stay as low as possible so your crews can employ more of our citizens. But I can't hinder the will of the people just for you. Not now that our laws proclaim a constitutional monarchy for Arendelle."

"I don't mind higher taxes, Elsa. Just make sure they go to helping the less fortunate of your kingdom." Kristoff continued to stare at the ground. "I remember what it was like to struggle for a living. I don't want kids to break their backs working on ice like I did."

The Snow Queen paused, tapping her high heel on her throne's dais. "Look at me, Kristoff."

Kristoff looked up at Anna's elder sister with a respect that bordered on reverence.

"Thank you, my Ice Master," she said quietly. "You're a good man, truly."

"Thank _you_," said Kristoff at once, lowering his head again. "I owe you… a lot. I pretty much owe you my life," he corrected himself quickly. He had never been good at conversation with those he was awestruck by. Yes, he had self-respect and he wouldn't take any insult lying down, but here was a woman who could freeze a kingdom to near-collapse, create a fortress of flawless ice in the mountains, and even summon sentient life from snow in the form of Olaf. No wealth could top that. And if he were really honest, would it not be true that he loved Elsa? Not like he did Anna, but surely, she had done so much for him, it wasn't easy to simply call her a benefactor. She was more than that. More than an elder sister. More like…

He couldn't really explain it.

They hadn't even spoken that much since Prince Hans' banishing from Arendelle. How could she treat him so kindly?

"I have one suggestion for you, though," came Elsa's gentle voice.

"Anything, Your Majesty."

"It's probably best for you to move into the palace," said Elsa, beaming. "I know you recently bought a mansion near Oaken's springs, but perhaps you could rent it out to some up-and-coming merchant. You're already well-established."

Kristoff looked up again, caught off-guard. "I said 'anything' and I mean it – but can I just ask why?" he asked. "It's a… strange proposal. Sorry, my Queen – I'm just being honest."

"I know, don't you dare apologize. I should explain myself. I ask because I hear you proposed to Anna," said Elsa, smiling down at him. "I saw her ring too, my prospective brother-in-law."

Kristoff's pale complexion failed to protect his blush. "It's an engagement I'm not sure I deserve, but yeah. It's been a couple of weeks since. But we haven't discussed anything about living together yet. Especially since…" He winked at the Queen. "Well, you know about the other guy Anna wanted to move in with."

"I know you'll make her very happy. You'll make a wonderful King Consort for her when she inherits my throne."

Kristoff blinked. Not that he minded, but it seemed all too fast. "Your Majesty… I don't know what to say."

Elsa (for once) giggled. "About what? That you might one day be part of our royal family, or that I haven't found a King to have children with? I'm much more looking forward to being an auntie, you know." The Queen, for all her august dignity, couldn't help tittering again at the thought.

Now he was blushing even harder. "You're putting me in a really awkward position, Elsa."

"He's always awkward. Don't let that put you off, big sister," came Anna's cheerful voice, as the doors to the throne room gave way to her bubbly form.

"Anna! I mean, Your Highness," cried Kristoff, turning his head briefly. But he was relieved. The atmosphere with Elsa had gotten curiously awkward.

"What a coincidence, dear Anna," called Elsa, rising from her modest wooden throne. "I was just teasing Kristoff about his future in our court."

"You've been merciless to him recently," laughed Anna, bounding over and putting a hand on Kristoff's shoulder. "Hey, I think you can get up now," she mock-whispered at him.

"Rise, Ice Master," said Elsa, lifting a hand from her lap. "In fact, don't kneel in my presence anymore. Family don't scrape and grovel before each other – "

Muffled screams of pain and anguish suddenly filled the air, and for a moment, Elsa and Anna didn't even think they were cries. But as they grew louder, to the point that it seemed they were just outside the throne room, they looked at each other in hasty alarm.

"What's going on, Anna?" said Elsa cautiously.

"I – I have no idea," replied Anna, "honestly!" She turned around, gesturing outside towards the palace corridor. It was empty. "See? No one's there." Kristoff had also stood back up, turning to look at the direction of the screams. Then, as if to answer Elsa's question, two lifeless figures of the royal guards fell into sight. Their limp hands had long released their pikes. They _were_ standing at attention as late as Anna's arrival. Now, their uniformed bodies were silent. Anna screamed loudly, and Kristoff couldn't tell if they were unconscious or dead.

"What's happening?" whispered Elsa, also standing. "Who's there?" Sensing a sinister presence, her wide cerulean eyes narrowed as she conjured a hail of ice and hurled it at the wooden beams in the ceiling. "Move, now!"

Kristoff grabbed a screaming Anna and ran for it as Elsa's barrage of melon-sized projectiles pummeled and punched dozens of holes in the oak. A lithe shadow landed, unharmed, on the floor, standing between Elsa and the shocked couple of Anna and Kristoff.

He was almost shapeless, his hood covering his entire head and his cloak enswathing his whole body. It was hard to even tell if he was thin or fat.

"Assassin," cried Elsa, displaying her rarely seen but dread anger, "How dare you dirty this royal court and harm my guards!" She flicked back her braided ponytail and clenched her fist, and the howl of an elemental blizzard grew louder. Her rage was enough to invoke her snowy defenses. Jagged icicles of winter freeze erupted from the castle floor, rumbling aggressively towards the intruder. When the assassin didn't attempt to move, Elsa lost what little was left of her temper. She waved her hands in a violent gesture, and her ill will was all it took for the ice daggers to shoot straight for the mysterious figure's legs. But to Kristoff and Anna's surprise and trepidation, the faceless man in the black cloak seemed utterly unperturbed. As light on his feet as a cat, he leaped out of the way of the icy stalagmites, dancing away from Elsa's cryokinesis. Glaring, Elsa reached for him, and the floorboards of the castle splintered, giving way to a massive hand that would crush any human being to pulp upon impact. But despite the magical ice that moved almost as swiftly as her thoughts, the newcomer moved even quicker. He landed softly before the throne and suddenly whipped out from his ebony outfit a small contraption with a long, wooden barrel.

_A matchlock pistol? How did he manage to sneak a firearm in here_? thought Kristoff in panic to himself, holding Anna tighter. The assassin pointed his weapon at the bewildered Elsa. From the shadows of his hood, a sadistic grin at last betrayed itself to Kristoff.

Anna's stomach began to churn with dread. _He's going to shoot her. He's going to hurt Elsa. No. No!_

_I won't let you_!

"_Stop him_," roared Kristoff instinctively, but there were no guards to hear him.

"For Prince Hans," was all that the assassin declared, as he pressed the trigger of the matchlock pistol.

"ELSA!" screamed Anna, as she wrenched herself free from Kristoff's grip and sprinted towards her elder sister.

The terrifying _boom_ that came from that small, sinister barrel would echo louder than any blizzard that Elsa could summon.

It would change Arendelle forever.

And it would change the Snow Queen, her sister, and the Ice Master forever.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Warship Diplomacy

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Warship Diplomacy**

* * *

_The dawn of a new age begins for Arendelle as an assassination attempt against Anna becomes the catalyst for the kingdom's expansion into a seafaring, imperialist empire. But the story is not so simple; with old friendships thrown into unpredictable waters and new allegiances emerging… will Elsa's powers of snow and ice be of any help in this era of mercantilist ruthlessness?_

A/N: I hope you enjoy the second chapter of my Frozen fanfic, and any feedback is welcome as usual. :D

* * *

Her undivided concern for Elsa shielded her somewhat from the pain as the metal capsule entered her body, puncturing flesh, bone, blood vessels, and marrow.

It still hurt a lot more than the accidental curse Elsa had shot her with when they were just children.

Anna, Princess of Arendelle and heir apparent to the country's beloved Snow Queen, had thrown herself in front of Elsa, directly blocking the path of the bullet. She fell to the ground, her face twisted in excruciating pain as blood poured from her right shoulder, the gore quickly spreading into her gentle green blouse and spilling onto the throne room's wooden boards and carpet.

She heaved, gasping in disbelief at the piercing, razor-sharp agony.

"Anna!" screamed Elsa, jolted out of her confusion and astonishment. Snowflakes drifted around her, helpless to stop or staunch anything.

Tears flowed from Anna's scrunched eyes as she struggled to rise. She moaned her older sister's name over and over, frantic for the latter's safety even as her own life bled away.

Kristoff roared in panic and rushed over to her, kneeling down and shielding her shaking frame with his body. "What has he done to her!" he screamed, staring in horror at Anna's sweating, pallid face.

Heart pounding in her ears and blood rushing to her head, Elsa whipped around in rage at the assassin, who seemed also caught-off. He aimed his musket handgun at her again. His eyes flashed remorselessly. "She's a fast runner, isn't she? She must care very deeply for you, Snow Queen. But my bullet won't miss this time," he snarled –

"You _ingrate_!" shrieked Elsa in imperial ire, clenching her fists. She blinked away tears of fear and fury, her face darkening in wrath and hate. "_Suffer my displeasure_!" She flicked her hand at him, and from the ground burst several dozen pellets of ice, sharp and small just like the assassin's bullets. This time, he wasn't deft enough to dance out of the way. Before he could even scream in pain, blood was spraying from the twenty or so holes in his cloak – Elsa's aim was true. He silently collapsed to the ground, foiled and destroyed.

Elsa panted quietly to herself, unable to relax her fists. She hated inflicting death – she had almost once done it in the North Mountain, against Hans' henchmen. But she could never forgive any attempt on Anna's life. She breathed deeply, staring down at the carcass of the interloper. How long had it been since she used her magic to actually harm, to kill? Now that her emotions were in harmony with her magic, she was perhaps an even deadlier force of nature. No more accidental winters. Her intent was all that was needed to inflict desolation.

But what good was such might when she couldn't even shield sweet Anna from such torture?

"Anna. Anna!" whispered Kristoff urgently in the meanwhile, cradling her slowly as her lovely green eyes rolled back. It was no good. She was losing consciousness. "Elsa, we need the physicians, now!"

"Elsa…" murmured Anna calmly, her clammy hand stroking Kristoff's forearm lovingly. "Is she safe?" It was amazing how quickly her bubbly, charmingly innocent personality could accommodate such mature courage.

"Worry about yourself, Anna," urged Kristoff, but Anna didn't hear him. She had closed her eyes, letting out a raspy sigh.

"I'll be fine. Please. Help… Elsa."

Reinforcements had arrived, and the royal guards gasped at the corpses of their two comrades at the door and the ice-riddled body of the cloaked dispatcher. "Your Majesty!" cried the guards. "Are you – dear gods, the Princess!"

"Anna. Anna, Anna, Anna," cried Elsa mournfully, her shimmering cape draped around her heaving shoulders. She could hear the echoes of that day, when Anna briefly gave her life to shield Elsa from Hans' sword. It was all replaying in front of her, like a recurring nightmare, a fiendish déjà vu.

Her knees began to buckle, feeling weak. She put her hands to her mouth, stunned at her own incompetence. Tumultuous snow began to swirl around the hunched form of Kristoff as she muttered Anna's name over and over.

The princess had offered her existence, freely and fearlessly, to her queen twice. And what had she received in return? A death sentence, twice over.

Elsa had failed her little sister. Again.

"_Anna_!"

* * *

It had been three weeks since the assassination attempt. Anna was still bedridden, crying and moaning between bouts of unconsciousness. The bullet wound had infected her shoulder, and the bandages were being replaced every few hours just to apply renewed, hearty quantities of herbal medicine. A last resort would have to be amputation, before the gangrene reached into her breast and neck. But fever and debilitation were perhaps more likely to claim her life.

Elsa hadn't remembered the last time she wept for so long in private. Her eyes stung from the dryness, and she didn't notice her ruined pink eyeliner. It was as if there were no tears left to shed, and whatever she had remaining had been frozen over. She kept a silent vigil over Anna's bedside for most of the days, attending to matters of state only when it was absolutely necessary. There was barely any conversation between the two sisters, except the urgent, whispering exchange of each other's names as Elsa held Anna's hand. Anna didn't have enough energy to even sit up. Perhaps it was best that they just comforted each other with their mutual, silent presence.

A certain kind of darkness had descended over the palace. It wasn't the same kind of unhappiness that hung over Arendelle like a diseased cloud after the loss of Elsa and Anna's parents. This one was more… uncertain. It represented the unpredictability and volatility of whatever could occur next. Because no one knew what would transpire after this.

The tension in the palace was as combustible as gunpowder.

Tonight, Elsa couldn't sleep. She had waved her royal dress and mantle out of existence and conjured an austere, light blue nightdress for herself. She must have looked like a ghost as she wandered the hallways of her home in silver slippers. She loosened her ponytail, letting her elegant braids become undone. The platinum tresses fell around her as she looked wearily past one of the windows and up at the shining moon.

"Insomnia for you too, huh?" echoed Kristoff's voice from behind.

She turned around, leaning against the wall. "I'm actually shattered. I could fold and pass out now, but somehow I can't rest. How can I? It's impossible when I'm thinking about her." She looked Kristoff up and down. Only the gods knew if he had cried at all. He certainly wouldn't let Elsa see, let alone Anna.

Something had changed dramatically since the past fortnight. For the past three years, Anna had transformed Kristoff's usually reserved and lonesome personality into a much more comical one (even if Elsa didn't always understand their inside jokes). He had begun opening up to a world of people rather than of woodlands and reindeer. He would always be a slightly awkward gentle giant, but that was who he was. But since the attack on Anna, he hadn't cracked a single smile or grin. Indeed, he hadn't spoken a single kind word. That dark day had snapped something basic inside him.

"Your Ice Master's clothes… don't you bring a change of garb whenever you sleepover in the palace?" asked Elsa. "I can see Anna's blood on your garments."

Ignoring Elsa's rather tasteless attempt at dark humor, Kristoff unfolded his arms, glaring at nothing. "Elsa," he said hoarsely. "The Southern Isles must be punished. Hans must pay."

Elsa pressed the side of her forehead against the wood, the moonlight illuminating her exhausted pupils. "I know."

"They sent an assassin onto sovereign territory. Our response has got to be strong. It has to hit them hard. Moreover…" Kristoff's face darkened into a twisted expression that Elsa had never seen before. "I want Hans. He's the one who did this to her. He would have killed you if it weren't for her sacrifice."

Elsa bit her lip as he slowly walked closer, coming to a stop inches from her form. "We'll do what we need to do. Somehow. I wish to discuss with my ministers the possibility of war. I desperately hope it is a remote one. You sound suspiciously like you're itching for a fight. Like you want something to happen."

"If the Council of War doesn't act – if Parliament doesn't act – " Kristoff probably didn't realize it, but he was beginning to loom over Elsa, his bulk towering over her. " – then I'll hunt down Hans myself. To the ends of the earth."

Elsa stared up at him. "You can't do this," she whispered. "Not with Anna bedridden. She needs to hear your voice. To hold your hand."

She resisted the urge to shiver. There was a storm gathering inside Kristoff. She knew, because she could feel it. Like her own, when she first fled the palace when Anna rediscovered Elsa's powers.

"I'm sorry, Elsa, but I disagree," replied Kristoff vehemently, defying Elsa for the first time that they both remembered. "I should be hunting down any other assassins Hans has sent, and taking down Hans before he tries anything else!" His teeth were grinding furiously against each other, and the frosty glare in his irises was nothing like she'd ever seen before. "Don't forget – Hans tried to kill _you_, too!"

"I will never forgive him," sputtered Elsa, "but have you any idea who you resemble right now? You look like _him_!"

To his own shock, Kristoff grabbed Elsa's wrist, losing his self-composure. "Hans tried to murder you and Anna. I'd die for Anna's sake!" he barked. "And yours, Elsa!"

Elsa tried to pull away. Her wrist was sore from the large man's grip, but she hadn't a hope of breaking free. She was helpless while he held her. "Please, Kristoff. You're a big man. You're frightening me."

Queen and vassal stared intently at each other, their heavy breathing hot on the other's face.

It took a moment to register, but then Kristoff recoiled in horrified realization and backed off at once. He gave a quick, nervous bow. "I'm so sorry, Elsa. Your Majesty, I've done something I shouldn't have. You should have smacked me with an ice pole."

Relieved but still a bit shaken, Elsa hugged herself, unable to look at her sister's lover. "Don't hurt me like that again."

"What are you talking about? Your magic could tear me apart like wet parchment."

"I didn't mean… in the physical way." She glanced up at him then looked away again, closing her eyes sadly. "The glint in your eyes, Kristoff… it feels even colder than my magical ice. What's happening to you?"

Kristoff stared at her. "Touché," he muttered, unsure whether to continue the argument or thank her for shaking him out of his rage with such a heavy rebuke. "I don't know what's stewing inside me either. I… I've just… been worn down by what Anna has had to go through. To think Hans would be so heartless as to do this to her. I can't forgive that. I wish I punched him myself three years ago. And held him down when he fell into the water."

"You're a deeply loyal man, but I can conversely see that your single-mindedness would make you a terrifying enemy," pleaded Elsa. "You try to keep a calm façade, but your heart is alight with emotion. I know this sounds bizarre, coming from me, but you must keep your feelings in check. Our next move could either help us seize Hans or start a war."

Kristoff nodded slowly, but Elsa could see that he wasn't completely convinced. "If Parliament doesn't act, then I will," he said. "I'll use my ship, Rime Clipper, to chase down Hans and deliver him into your hands."

"No!" cried Elsa, her raised voice bouncing off the high walls. "I ask you again: do you want to commit an act of war before we've even declared anything against the Southern Isles?" She grabbed his arm, looking him in the eye, this time with steely determination. "I won't let you hurt Anna further by putting yourself in danger."

"Is that an order?" demanded Kristoff softly, unable to conceal the menacing growl that lay beneath his quiet front.

Elsa drew herself up, breathing deeply and staring Kristoff in the eye. "I'm not ordering you as your Queen. I'm begging you, as your beloved's elder sister." Her eyes shone, azure glowing even brighter than the night's moon. "One day, you will call me your big sister too. Surely I can at least offer you my counsel?"

"Neither ruler nor sister-in-law can compel me to just sit back and wait," said Kristoff coolly. "You forgot already? I'm the Governor of the North Mountain Company now. And I'm free to recruit and ally with whomever I need to avenge Anna." He turned his back on the Queen, his already hardened expression darkening even further. "Before I met Anna, I only had Sven with me. I'm not above returning to that way of life, if you won't stay by my side."

"I want nothing more than to keep you with me, Kristoff. With us. Anna needs you. But… I'm the Queen of Arendelle. I… can't let you drag this kingdom into war." She looked away, gritting her teeth. "I have a responsibility to protect my people."

Kristoff began to walk, doing his best to ignore the Queen's outstretched hand.

"Please. Wait."

"I'm sorry, Elsa. I've failed you as your Ice Master. I have no special allegiance to this country… even with you as Queen. I'm just some guy with a very special fiancée. All I can see is her. All I can see is my responsibility to avenge her."

Unable to make a dent in his resolve, Elsa lowered her arm, struggling to maintain her composure as Kristoff slowly departed from her.

* * *

"The Southern Isles must be taught a lesson," echoed an old man's angry voice.

"Yes!" agreed another. "How could they have let that despicable outcast prince, Hans, do this to one of the members of our royal family? This is an act of open war! And an insult!"

Elsa hadn't felt the burden of government for a long time. The last three years had been so gentle to her, to the point that perhaps she had become complacent. But now…

"Ministers," she piped up from her throne, looking at the stale, pale males that stood before her, decked in badges and medals that she had awarded out of duty rather than any real admiration over the years. "Is it not possible that Hans escaped the Thirteen Princes and managed to attack Anna and I without their knowledge, let alone approval? We have enjoyed good diplomatic relations with the Southern Isles for the past three years, ever since we sent Hans back to them. The Thirteen Princes despise him as much as we do."

"But Mister Kristoff speaks sense, Your Majesty – whatever the Thirteen Princes feel about Hans is not our responsibility! Rather, what they do to keep him incarcerated is our business. Their failure meant putting you in danger and a very real threat to Princess Anna!" cried the bearded Finance Minister.

The wrinkly Trade Minister nodded in agreement. "Your Majesty, you have made it quite clear to your nobles, Parliament, and the people that you want Princess Anna to succeed you. We accepted joyfully, but that means that Anna deserves as much protection as any son or daughter of the Crown! As your heir apparent's fiancé, the Governor of the North Mountain Company is rightly fearful of the Princess's safety. When I met with Mister Kristoff, he was very emphatic, and I believe correctly so, about hunting down Hans and enforcing some kind of collective punishment on those who abetted this brazen assassination attempt on Princess Anna!"

Elsa looked around uncomfortably. "Wait. Has… Kristoff… been talking to you?" she asked.

The Trade Minister shifted uncomfortably, as if realizing he had blurted something out of line. "He treated the Finance Minister and myself to a trade lunch, Your Majesty. Salmon and cream cheese kept in the freshest of conditions by his ice. He's not much of a talker, but got straight to the point."

"Ministers. You shouldn't be taking advice from private citizens, no matter how respected or how often he visits my palace!" reproached Elsa, losing her temper. She felt betrayed, strangely, which was worrying. She didn't feel vulnerable so easily before. Kristoff had done nothing wrong. Yet why her deep disease? Perhaps she wasn't as liberal as she thought? Did she have some authoritarian streak, or was it because of Anna's dire condition? "Don't lie to your sovereign. Tell me: what has been saying to you?"

The ministers stared solemnly at her, their discomfort transforming into something perhaps even more disturbing – resolve. "Please let us be clear and unambiguous, Your Majesty," said the Minister of Agriculture. "We worked together to transition our great kingdom into a constitutional monarchy. For that, we love you ever more and uphold you as the symbolic heart of Arendelle. In return for that respect, you've conceded your powers to the people. The common individual now has the right to vote and therefore the prerogative to influence how we in Parliament vote and legislate. Mister Kristoff is one of those people, and may I remind Your Majesty that ministers need _especially_ to heed the opinions of a private citizen with a growing chartered company like his."

"He's told that to _all_ of you?" she whispered, her fists clenching in her lap. "Who else _hasn't_ had lunch with him?"

Of the assembled dozen or so ministers, only one timid hand rose from the Minister for Education and Culture.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying, in other words, that your collective decisions override mine."

"That is how a constitutional monarchy's checks and balances are supposed to function, Your Majesty."

"Indeed. The monarch's existence and legitimacy depends on the Charter, and is hence not above its laws."

The ministers might have been greedy, but they weren't duplicitous. All of it was true. Elsa had been prepared for this when she willingly signed the Charter eight seasons ago. But now she could see that the balance of power in her kingdom was shifting before her very eyes. She had to be careful. Adapting to this new order would be difficult, especially with Kristoff's rage and grief driving the ministers' actions. For now, she had no choice but to comply. "Then what must I assent to?"

"On behalf of Your Majesty, and the North Mountain Company's first Governor, we propose to draft a declaration of war on the Southern Isles. Points of order: one, to avenge the attack on our royal family! Two, to hunt down the fugitive prince Hans! Three, to punish the negligence of the Isles' government for failing to stop Hans and his henchmen!"

"Yes! Our fleet will blast the Isles' shores into submission. We will then impose a treaty that compels their assistance in helping our military hunt down Hans like the dog he is."

Elsa bit her lip and swallowed her uneasiness… and pride. "Then as a monarch who reigns, not rules, I will not interfere. Please go with my blessing, though it's one made with a heavy heart."

She lowered her head, closing her eyes. She didn't care that it looked like a gesture of defeat.

_Anna… are we really protecting you by doing this_…?

"Can I at least write a letter to the Thirteen Princes and warn them?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Then prepare the Royal Navy."

* * *

Trembling on her bed, Anna tossed and turned feverishly in her nightdress, muttering something about chocolate and fairy cakes before giving a loud grunt and returning to snoring loudly. All the while, Elsa, resplendent once more in her angelic attire, watched over the sleeping beauty fondly. It was a curious situation. It was easy to see how Elsa cared for Anna – she was the older and wiser of the two, the head of the family who had resumed the responsibility and burden of kingship. But Anna's care came through in different ways, not least by being the emotional anchor of Elsa's life. Despite all the emotional pain that had passed between them growing up, when they finally understood each other, both were completely willing to die for the other.

Long hair disheveled, Anna's eyes slowly fluttered open as Elsa lightly trailed her fingers along the bandages wrapped around her shoulder. The wound had finally closed up, and the infection from the extracted bullet seemed to be confined. Her recuperation was making progress. If the gods smiled on them, a more or less full recovery was not unlikely, given time. She gazed up, meeting her big sister's relieved eyes. Elsa's creased, worried face broke into a tearful smile. "Hey," she croaked, putting warm, wet towel on Anna's forehead and wiping away the sweat. "My dearest Anna," she murmured mournfully, drawing close and pressing her lips fondly on the convalescent princess's cheekbone.

"Hey, sis." Anna blinked woozily at the kiss on her freckles, smiling as if it was just the start of another usual morning. "Are you okay?"

Elsa suddenly began to laugh out loud. "Are you asking _me_ if I'm okay? Oh, Anna, it's so typical of you to direct that question to me. Do you even remember that someone almost had your head?" She looked away, unable to finish. She wasn't giggling anymore. "You placed yourself in harm's way again. For me. It's like I'm truly dangerous to you. Like when I was lost in my own fear and self-doubt." She brought Anna's relaxed hand to her forehead, pressing it tenderly to her. "The assassin meant to take my life. But he almost stole something much more precious."

Anna smiled kindly up at her. "Do I remember I was down on my luck in the throne room?" Elsa glanced at her and nodded, smiling at the understatement through teary eyes. "Well, I do I remember. Every second of it. But don't you dare say you're a threat to me. We've been through that before. Don't talk like that again. Don't _think_ like that again."

Elsa's brow furrowed. "I killed him, you know. It's been a long time since my magic condemned someone to death."

Anna licked her lips, grasping Elsa's fingers tighter. "I'm right here, Elsa. Your love once melted me from a frozen death. My love will protect you, too."

"I was so scared," whispered Elsa. "But we have to move forward. Together." But she wasn't done yet. She paused, dreading the inevitable moment she would need to tell Anna about what had happened to Kristoff. How Anna's brush with death had cut away the tentative shoots of his faith in human beings. She steeled herself. "Anna, there's something I need to tell you about."

A dull, repetitive _thud, thud, thud_ suddenly came from the door. "Your Majesty! Your Highness! I have urgent news!"

"Come in," called Elsa tersely. The door swung open to reveal a panting, out-of-breath messenger. Her eyes widened as the courier broke the news.

"The Royal Navy's ships, along with Mister Kristoff's Rime Clipper, are bombarding the harbor ports of the Southern Isles!"

"Rime Clipper? Kristoff?" Anna replied weakly. Her strong, confident face faltered for the first time. "Why has my fiancé left Arendelle? He just got back…"

Elsa lowered her head, clasping Anna's hand tighter. "Your sweetheart's fighting alongside the Royal Navy. But he'll be fine. No harm will come to him," she said.

Anna's eyes glistened. That wasn't what she was concerned about. "What's going on, big sis? Southern Isles? Bombardment? What on earth is any of this supposed to achieve?"

Wracked with guilt, Elsa's lip trembled. "It's about Kristoff, Anna. He's… losing control. We need to talk."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Arendelle forces the Southern Isles to sign an unequal trade treaty, propelling the North Mountain Company's rise into a corporation with an independent navy…**


	3. Innocence Lost

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Innocence Lost**

* * *

A/N: Welcome back to my Frozen fanfic. In this chapter, Kristoff takes on the world: there's nowhere for Hans to hide, and Kristoff's North Mountain Company will force open every port, steal all the territory, and monopolize whatever trade it needs to destroy the disgraced prince once and for all!

Desperate to stop Kristoff from going down a very dark road, Elsa reluctantly joins in the politicking, building her own power base before the last vestiges of her authority are stolen right under her nose!

If you like _For Queen and Country_ or want to suggest any improvements, feel free to leave a review, feedback or some comments. They're all very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. ^_^

* * *

"Distance five hundred! Load the cannons!"

Cold, life-snuffing metal slid down colder tubes, waiting to be ignited and vomited out in the direction of human flesh.

"For Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle!"

A gleaming saber was raised high in the air.

"Ready…"

Its uniformed wielder swung the blade down, signaling the renewed assault.

"_FIRE_!"

The cannonballs hurtled from the gunports, smashing into the sails and splintering the hulls of the enemy ships. They punched wide gashes and holes in their blazing frames, sending their massive forms sinking slowly into the sea. An inferno rose from the hapless vessels, eating up anything in its way and illuminating the water with the firepower of Arendelle's Royal Navy. When they weren't being blasted into a dozen body parts or hurled into the air by the explosions, sailors of the Southern Isles were screaming and fleeing wretchedly. They abandoned their posts as the ships' main masts and foremasts slowly creaked and toppled forward, crashing into the decks. It was spectacular but dark sight. Dozens of corpses floated in the bloody harbor and hundreds more had sunk beneath the waters to join their shipwrecks, sacrifices to the North Mountain Company's hunt for Hans.

It was the third month into the siege of the Southern Isles' main ports, and there was little left of the once-prosperous waterfront. The sudden attack made several weeks ago had reaped marvelous results. Elsa's commanders had ordered their officers to engage in "gunboat diplomacy" – to force the Southern Isles' surrender by bombarding anything within their cannons' reach: government buildings, merchant offices, civilian residences, churches… and the Royal Navy obeyed. Buildings along the entire coast were blown ablaze. The ships backed up their threats by blasting into oblivion the Isles craft sent out to skirmish with them.

The Arendellian fleet occupied the entire seaside. Only several ships belonging to the Isles Navy were left, and they were quickly running out of provisions to support their sailors. There was no tally on the number of dead or wounded, nor was there much distinction made between civilians. The military reasoned that Queen Elsa had written a personal letter to the Southern Isles' rulers, warning them of the invasion, so any precautionary evacuation they didn't carry out was their own fault.

A short distance away floated four sleek but powerful sailing ships of Arendelle's naval fleet. At their center was the Rime Clipper, the flagship of the North Mountain Company. The lone figure of Kristoff stood high. No longer was this hefty blond man dressed like an ice harvester. His uniform had abandoned its woodland identity, losing the dark moss green for a black undress coat with an aggressively crimson colored shirt. Gone were his old fur boots, replaced by slimmer, black leather counterparts that hugged tight white breeches. Affixed to the long undress coat was a gold badge with the Snow Queen's coat-of-arms. After all, the North Mountain Company was Arendelle's first chartered company, and as long as it continued to turn over a hefty profit, there was no excuse for Elsa to revoke the Royal Charter. And besides, its shareholders were some of the most powerful merchants and aristocrats in Arendelle.

Not even Elsa would be able to circumvent so many factions that supported the Company.

Where he once wore a humble beanie hat, he now donned a slender, raven-colored bicorn that looked almost silly on his blond mop. As if self-conscious about that, he slowly took it off, glaring at the explosions and the smoke that rose high into the blue midday sky. He leaned over the figurehead, observing in silence the cannonfire in the distance.

"I'm sorry, Elsa," he whispered. He didn't regret the lengths to which he went to catch Hans, but there was a twinge of self-reproach in his heart. How strange, he wondered, that he felt guilty on Elsa's behalf, but not for Anna. As far as he was concerned, he was doing all this for Anna. There wasn't any need to feel guilty. But to have Elsa's forlorn face seared in his memory…

Kristoff shook away the thoughts angrily. _Why is she always in my head? This is just… disturbing. I wish I could just hurry up and get home to Anna. Forget about all of this. Forget all about… her_.

But whom was he kidding? Elsa was the Queen. There was no way he could escape her reproachful yet hauntingly kind eyes, no matter how powerful a merchant he became.

"Mister Kristoff?" prompted a bald, bearded man behind him, with an even more extravagant, dark blue coat decked with badges.

Kristoff turned around, slightly relieved to be jolted out of his darkening thoughts. "Admiral. Welcome aboard my humble ship, Rime Clipper. Thanks for your assistance."

"I won't be long. I just wanted to let you know that the Thirteen Princes have sent agents aboard my ship to negotiate a ceasefire. I'll make sure they open their ports to us as compensation for us wasting our ammunition on ingrates like them. I'll try to lobby for them to give private merchants like you full access to their ports. Let's see how much we can wring from them. The Queen and her ministers decided rightly that Princess Anna needed to be avenged. That's exactly what we're here to help you do."

Kristoff's eyes narrowed. "Thanks. Hit them with everything we have, and then some."

The Admiral shivered. "Are you sure you should be an entrepreneur? Maybe you should ask Her Majesty to give you a senior position in our Armed Forces."

Kristoff snorted quietly to himself as the Admiral shuffled away. What did he care about the Royal Navy? He had his own commercial friends. He was never one to rub shoulders with the influential, but since becoming the Ice Master, he knew that a chartered company needed partners. He needed an army not bound under oath to the Queen – in other words, not the Armed Forces. He would need private armies.

He needed Presidency Armies.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" came a husky voice, which was nearly drowned out by another roar from the cannons. Kristoff's eyes fell on a Nordic colossus even larger than himself, who looked like a throwback to the heroic sagas of old. His red and black vestments were identical to Kristoff's, indicating his directorship of the North Mountain Company. "Thank you for taking your Board of Directors on this wonderful tour. Spice merchants, fur traders like me, rivals to ice harvesting – everyone's got a seat at the table for business."

"Cheers, Baron Anskar." Kristoff looked at the young woman beside Anskar, who despite her petite frame was wearing a slimmer black coat and a body-hugging red shirt: she was an equal, a handpicked Director of the Company. "Where's Director Gunnvald, Stefina?" he asked the brown-haired female.

"He's a bit seasick. But we have some marmalade and fresh cream waiting for him, so I'm sure he'll perk up soon enough. He's got a lot of deals he wants to seal with his spices from the land of Sarasvati," replied Stefina, who was the dealer of an addictive, extremely profitable recreational drug called opium.

"Wait for my good news. Elsa's Royal Navy shouldn't have much trouble dealing with these guys. I trust you with the recruitment drive for our Presidency regiments. I don't care if they're mercenary, as long as they know who's in charge. I don't want to rely on Elsa's military for much longer. Hans is rootless and adaptable: we have to be too."

"I'll help you butcher Hans and his supporters if you can be my means to open ports around the world," said the grizzled Anskar. "I want the market to welcome my trappers' seal and beaver fur. No more bleeding-heart regulation of our expeditions in Arendelle's frigid bays or tundra. My fellow nobility will pay good money for those creatures' skins. Their money is what keeps our funds flowing."

"And I want the ports to export my goods to the four corners," declared Stefina. "I can't get enough addicts. I want the entire nation of the Southern Isles to be hooked on that stuff." She raised an eyebrow. "Governor Kristoff, be a good boy and make sure we get open ports with the Southern Isles in the peace treaty: and if they don't want unrestricted trade, we force those ports open."

The Company's four Directors were assembled. Ice from Governor Kristoff's ice harvesters. Fur from Anskar's trappers. Spices from Gunnvald's colonists. Opium from Stefina's dealers. These four commodities represented the central interests of the North Mountain Company's Directors, and were rapidly dominating Arendelle's economy. Their trade across the world would shape the country's burgeoning imperialism against rival powers.

"As I said… it won't be long. For now, we wait." Kristoff glared over in the distant docks, which had become engulfed in brimstone and smoke. "Let's see how long the Southern Isles hold out with their trade ports pulverized. I can't let Hans use their ships to escape us. But when they surrender, I'm sure the Admiral will prepare a treaty that'll do us justice."

He wasn't sure if Hans would manage to escape. But if he did, Kristoff already knew where he would be headed. _If I were Hans, I'd be fleeing to someplace where all friendly ties with Arendelle had been cut off… where there was no more economic cooperation. Where I'd find an enemy of an enemy as my friend_…

"You're next, Duke of Weaselton or Weselton, whatever your hole of a country's called," he muttered.

* * *

_**The Treaty of Skagen**_

_Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle, and His Majesty the King of the Southern Isles, being desirous of putting an end to the misunderstandings and consequent hostilities which have arisen between the two Countries, have resolved to conclude a Treaty for that purpose._

_Article I: His Majesty the King of the Thirteen Isles agrees that Subjects of Arendelle, with their families and establishments, shall be allowed to reside, for the purpose of carrying on their mercantile pursuits, without molestation or restraint at the Cities and Towns of Copenhagen, Odense, and Randers, and Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle will appoint Consular Officers to reside in the above Cities, to see that the just Duties and other Dues of the Isles Government are provided for, and are duly discharged by the Snow Queen's Subjects._

_Article II: It being necessary and desirable, that Arendellian Subjects should have a Port where they may careen and refit their Ships, when required, and keep stores for that purpose, His Majesty the King of the Thirteen Isles cedes to Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle, the Port of Alborg, to be possessed in perpetuity by the Snow Queen, Her Heirs and Successors, and to be governed by such Laws and Regulations as Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle shall see fit to direct. _

_Article III: It being obviously necessary and desirable that the fugitive Prince Hans be brought to justice for his agent's attempted assassination of Her Highness Princess Anna of Arendelle, His Majesty the King of the Thirteen Isles agrees that the Officers of Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle should be given assistance by the Armed Forces of the Southern Isles to apprehend Hans and deliver him into the custody of Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle._

Queen Elsa stared in horror at the document before her. She unconsciously dropped her quill, and the black ink its tip had been dipped in dashed against the wooden table. "What… how… _who_ among you wrote and approved this?" she cried at the seated senior government ministers. "Am I supposed to assent to this unfair treaty?" she asked, looking around at the unsympathetic council. "This is hardly the most diplomatic way. Article Two has effectively written into law a colony for Arendelle in the Southern Isles."

The War Minister spoke up. "We signed this in the presence of the Thirteen Princes' representative on board their flagship, Hunter. The civil servants of Skagen were very cooperative in hosting the event. You should also observe that the cities in Article One are now open for Arendelle's investment. It's not just the North Mountain Company that will benefit, though it already oversees four fifths of the ice trade. Even now, merchants and workers hungry to make their fortune overseas are boarding dozens of ships to go to the Southern Isles."

Elsa shook her head. "We'll be hated," she said plainly. "People of other nations – maybe my own – will caricature me as an imperialist tyrant."

"No! History will look back on your reign with awe. The Port of Alborg will now subject to the laws of our kingdom, not those of the Southern Isles," crowed the Foreign Minister. "I tell you, Your Majesty, our extraterritoriality in Alborg will be a new gateway to prosperity. The North Mountain Company will be able to expand and employ more people. Our annual revenue will surge by a third. And more importantly, the noose will tighten around Hans. Don't you see, Your Majesty? The more places that grant the North Mountain Company territorial rights, the more Arendelle grows in strength to defeat not only Hans."

Elsa glared at the Foreign Minister. "I need to see Kristoff."

"What Your Majesty does with Mister Kristoff is up to you," came the reply. "Please, Your Majesty – the Prime Minister has already signed this, along with the ambassador of the Thirteen Princes. Let's pass this as quickly as possible, so you can begin the stately duty of administering to your new colony. You'll be very busy in the days ahead."

_Kristoff has lobbied for their support – extremely successfully_, she realized helplessly. How he managed to become so politically astute, she'd never know. Was it desperation, hate, or love that drove men to do great things? _In any case, I'm losing control_, she thought to herself in growing panic. _I almost lost control of my powers a long time ago. No more, but now my own inner circle_…

Parliament was independent of her authority. She couldn't exert influence over the North Mountain Company. Sentence by sentence, clause by legal clause, her grasp over Arendelle's statecraft was being forcibly loosened by the limits imposed by the Charter of constitutional monarchy. She wouldn't have minded in any other circumstance, but to lose so many queenly privileges now meant that Kristoff couldn't be stopped. Not in the typical way.

_Am I awful for wishing I had more power to match Kristoff's rage_? she wondered in near-despair. She clenched her fist. Who could possibly be her ally against a man she had no desire to make enemies with? And how on earth was all this supposed to protect Anna? Wasn't that the whole point?

No longer was Arendelle a kingdom. It was now an empire.

The era of Arendellian colonialism had begun… in Queen Elsa's unwilling name.

* * *

Kristoff was getting used to these incessant sessions with the Queen. No. These were interrogations, a natural result of the mutual scheming they were doing behind each other's backs. He couldn't lie to himself. He was openly defying Elsa now. He wouldn't be surprised if she felt betrayed. He sighed impatiently as he took a knee, lowering his head. "You called me, Your Majesty? I spent weeks sailing back just to respond to your summons. There's a lot of business to take care of. I can't stay in the palace for long."

Elsa matched his frustration. She waved for him to rise irritably. "Drop the pretense, Governor. We both know we're furious with each other."

He stood, glaring insolently at her seated form on the throne. She glared right back, sizing him up and down in his North Mountain Company uniform. The passionate fury between them sizzled like a geyser's steam.

"You've become a completely different person. Your fingerprints were all over that document. Apparently, now I'm the sovereign of a coastal city I've never even visited." Elsa shook her head. "This is not the way to catch Hans. It's not what Anna needs or even wants. You're imposing violence and threats on innocent people who have nothing to do with our intrigues. All this, done in the name of the Crown I wear."

"It'll be a lot easier to finish Hans if we spread our forces across the seas. Across the world."

"Then what?" demanded Elsa. "Just what am I going to do with the Port of Alborg? We now have extraterritorial rights in the Southern Isles' main cities. Are we just going to stay there, kicking up the resentment of the Isles' citizens?"

"The treaty was pretty clear," said Kristoff brusquely, shrugging. "You have that port for perpetuity. Use your imagination, Elsa. The joint is yours. You can make it a shining city of Arendellian trade and culture. Me, I'm going to use it to build my ice holdings. I'll choke off all rivals that might help Hans' allies."

"What are you expanding into?" demanded Elsa. "What could be so lucrative that you're willing to go against my warning not to agitate my government to go to war? Is it the influence of your Directors? Is your wounded pride at not having been able to protect my sister?"

Kristoff's eyes were bleak. "The fur trade, then the spice routes. My Directors and I have decided. I'm righting wrongs. I'm making those who wanted to harm us pay. Then – and only then – I'll rest easy."

"Yet your precious Hans has escaped, didn't he?" asked Elsa, with a hint of triumph. She stood from her throne, gliding over, her cape caressing the floor. She planted herself before him. "You didn't care to tell me that first, did you? Your confession is as clear as the wording in the Treaty of Skagen. Why would you have needed Article Three for enlisting the Southern Isles' help if you had already caught him?"

Kristoff fell into a brooding silence.

"I knew it. I knew it! You're obsessed with that pathetic man, more than you care to stay by Anna's side," spat Elsa bitterly, pointing a queenly, accusatory finger at him. "I don't know who to feel more sorry for now. What are you doing this for, Kristoff? Is it all really worth it? To hurt Anna and me like this!"

He met her gaze fearlessly. "I won't let even you stop me from catching Hans. But any consequences that follow will befall the Company alone. You won't be harmed because of me. I can promise that." Elsa couldn't quite parse out the emotion swimming in those blue irises. "I'll protect you both."

She laughed exasperatedly. "You circumvent my authority, defy my direct wishes, and now you turn around and say you'll protect me? That you'll keep Anna safe? You're waging open war on my authority." She looked up at him in sad disbelief. "It's like you're an abusive husband. Promises here, sweet words there, when you couldn't care less. Maybe it's a good thing your union with her is delayed till gods know when," she exclaimed angrily, perhaps more harshly than she expected.

"I know I've hurt you. Maybe I've hurt Anna already too," gritted Kristoff. "But I _will_ deliver Hans to you, dead or alive in chains. That I can promise." He sighed. "What's happened to us? It was so… good between the three of us just a few months ago."

"Time flies, doesn't it?" Elsa shook her head. They were tired of fighting and arguing. Neither had the energy nor will to bicker anymore, even though both had quietly accepted that they couldn't reconcile. Not yet, at least. "Have you noticed something?" she asked softly. "The less time you're with Anna, the more you're at sea or being summoned to my throne room. This isn't healthy."

"Who's the one calling the shots?" retorted Kristoff. "It's not like I invited myself here."

"I wonder. I truly wonder." She looked up at him, no longer knowing what to think of this steely, determined ice harvester-turned-mercantile warlord. "For you and Anna's sakes, I think we need a break from each other. I'm her big sister. There are many different things I need to protect her from. Not all of them are physical perils."

Kristoff's eyes shone. "Fine."

"Whatever politics goes on between us, keep Anna out of it. And…" Elsa looked down at Kristoff's large, calloused hand. She hesitantly put her slender palm on his knuckles, and he looked at her almost timidly. "I understand that I shouldn't be touching you like this. Anna would throw a fit. But I need you to know that I'm simply doing what I think is best for my country, just like I accept that you think you're doing the right thing for Anna. Please," she implored. "Never forget that I will never hate you, quite the opposite. But I will not stand powerlessly by – you're acting out your convictions, and now I must act out mine!"

Kristoff nodded, giving a faint smile for the first time. "I know. Whatever happens in my struggle against you, you're still my Queen." He raised his hand and, to his own disbelief, cupped her cheek. Elsa stared up at him, mouth open in amazement. Even he looked surprised with himself. Since when did he become so brazen? Was it a ploy to make her lower her defenses? She didn't know anymore. She hated herself for being so cynical about him. And hadn't he heard a word of her warning about Anna? Despite their conflicts, they were getting dangerously close. That was what frightened them both. She pulled away from the warmth of his skin and walked back to her throne, braided ponytail swishing behind her.

"Get out," she ordered, lip trembling. "Don't you dare let the two of us hurt Anna."

* * *

It wasn't painful to walk anymore.

After dressing into her blue and purple satin blouse, Anna stood on her tiptoes, stretching her stiff left arm. She yawned, grateful that she would see another day, hopefully many more. The restricted stretching was the most she could do. She didn't dare to put to much strain on her right shoulder joint, lest it start bleeding again under her bandaged skin. She looked around her large room, basking in the morning sunlight filtering through the tall window.

She wanted to smile more. Smiling was one of the things she was best at. But it wasn't as easy to smile as it was in the old days. Her heart pined for Kristoff, but she trusted her sister when the latter told her that something had changed inside her beloved. They did have marriage plans, but now all that seemed to be abandoned as Kristoff pursued Hans.

She bit her lip, feeling her eyes sting. No, she wouldn't cry. There were more important things to do. Like helping Elsa stop Kristoff from doing anything stupid. They both wanted him to come home, after all. Kristoff was sometimes so hard to understand. She'd be fine with that on a usual day, the worst that would happen was an angry fight, the silent treatment for a day or two, before the loneliness became overwhelming and they made passionate, make-up mischief. But now it was different. From what Elsa had told her, Kristoff was acting in direct defiance of the Queen's wishes by pursuing Hans so fanatically.

_I'm sorry, Kristoff. If I had to pick between you and Elsa… it'd have to be Elsa. I adore you, but despite appearances, I do have royal responsibilities_, thought Anna sadly to herself.

Her room's door opened, revealing her elder sister. "Hi, Anna," said Elsa gently. "How are you feeling?"

Anna stared at the rings under Elsa's beautiful eyes. "Um… I'm better. But _you_ look exhausted, big sis."

"I won't pretend I'm not." Elsa looked at Anna, her gentle smile receding slightly. "Are you hungry?" she asked, as a maid shuffled in with a tray of sliced bread and marmalade. The conserve had already been spread onto the slice of bread, and in the tin were a baguette, three scones, and two breadsticks. Elsa waved the maid away. "Eat up. Get your strength back."

Anna's lips broke into a wide grin as she wobbled over to the tray. "Yum."

"It's a gift from Kristoff. The finest cut orange peels, he claims," said Elsa. She looked at Anna with a sad smile. "It's a luxury, to be sure. Only officers of his Company have been able to enjoy the preserve. He's shipped entire crates of the jars over to the palace. He hopes its taste will remind you of him."

Anna blushed furiously. She looked at her sibling, the marmalade forgotten. "He can be so random sometimes," she said, her voice quaking in pining for him.

"And romantic. He's a good man who's lost his way." Elsa bowed her head. "I know this must be so painful and difficult for you."

"Um…" Anna winced, pushing her forefingers together. "Well. I can't say that doesn't feel a bit awkward, but… I'll follow you anywhere, Elsa. And I know we need to bring him back. I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I'll take a bullet for you anytime." She looked bashfully at Elsa's appalled expression. "Heh heh. Oops. I s'pose I already have," she chuckled sheepishly.

"Stop this talk at once." Elsa took Anna's face in her hands, leaning closer. She tenderly guided her head downwards and planted a warm, loving kiss on her forehead. Anna closed her eyes at the soft touch of her sister's lips, silently elated by Elsa's gesture of affection and approval. "Don't throw yourself in front of danger so impulsively. It's your greatest strength… and the source of my darkest fears."

Anna suddenly heard the soft footsteps of leather shoes outside their room. "On another matter, I have someone for you to meet," she continued, moving aside to reveal a slightly taller man in a coffee-brown, three-piece suit with a lime-green tie. He had disheveled auburn hair, a pair of round spectacles perched on his nose, and clearly he didn't eat much: his frame was slight, but his face seemed kind and genuine. He looked at once scholarly and benign. The lean, gaunt visitor bowed deeply the moment his dark eyes fell upon Anna. He was clearly awestruck by the chance to be in the palace.

"Hi!" said Anna chirpily. "Elsa, can I ask who…?"

"He's already met me in the throne room. He was just catching up. Mister Reimund, please introduce yourself," invited Elsa, smiling.

Reimund quickly bowed again, evidently shocked that the Princess could be so down to earth. "It's my honor to be here. I'm still a bit surprised that I received a formal letter from the royal household. My name is Reimund of _The Witness_."

"It's the political gazette, right? It's pretty popular among our ministers and royal circles. I've seen your weekly on the news stands in the piazza," said Anna, giving a slight curtsy.

"Thank you so much," said Reimund. "I'm the magazine's political correspondent." Ever since the revolution of Gutenberg's printing press, Arendelle's subjects had become more informed and aware of their constitutional monarchy's politics through the private companies that sold newspapers and periodicals. Journalism was a new industry and discipline the people were only just getting to grips with.

"I've been reading Reimund's commentary and reporting for the past year or so." Elsa smiled, enjoying his flattered expression. "He seems to have friends and sources in high places, and his writing is persuasive. You should have a look at his articles sometime, Anna." She now felt nervous, confessing her need for some slightly… underhanded proposals. "Reimund, I wanted to tell you about why I called you here in front of Anna. We must be open if we're going to work together. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to be a bit of a 'courtier' to us."

"But Your Majesty… this is a dream come true. To have this kind of access to the palace and your royal court… My editor and I are happy to sacrifice any and all journalistic integrity so I can spend as much time as possible here."

Elsa laughed at the jest, briefly forgetting the forlorn face of Kristoff. "You'll have your own room and my servants are here to help. Help yourself to all meals, and I'll ask you to join us every now and then. That should help cover your publication's expenses for your time here."

Reimund bowed deeper, eliciting a brief giggle from Anna. "My pen is at your service, Your Majesty and Your Highness." He raised his head, looking into Elsa's encouraged eyes. "I came here at your bidding without knowing of my new posting's duties. May I beg Your Majesty to tell me, now that I've placed myself in your care?"

Elsa nodded. "Let me be frank, Reimund," she said, her face turning somber. "You are to be my first ally in my struggle against the North Mountain Company."

Reimund blinked, adjusting his coat. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but… I don't understand. You granted the Company a Royal Charter. It's growing by the day, with ever more merchants flocking to share in its wealth. My sources tell me they're building dozens of new ships to sail around the world for more land. Everyone knows you're behind this great corporation."

Anna winced. "Um. I wish that were true. But that's not quite the case."

Elsa nodded sadly. "Let me explain. Do you remember the day an assassin broke into our palace and injured Anna? I'm sure you would have reported on it."

Reimund looked shaken after Elsa had recounted the events of the past several months. "So the Company is poised to assemble a private army to hunt down Hans. They're building an empire you don't want. Yet there are many converging reasons that have effectively corseted you from personally dissolving the Company. Yet you say this Kristoff fellow is important to you both. Your Highness is…"

Anna nodded sadly. "You're right. I hate to do this to Kristoff. But Elsa's right, too. I have a responsibility to the Crown and the country, not Kristoff's corporation."

"Agreed," said Elsa. "Governor Kristoff is too blinded by rage to listen to me, and the Charter of Arendelle has limited my constitutional powers. My Prime Ministers and his Cabinet might be my government in name, but they are effectively independent of any pressure I can exert."

The Snow Queen pursed her lips. "But beyond the Three Estates of the Realm – my nobility, my clergy, and my government of common public servants – there is one more still I can depend on." She stared pointedly at Reimund. "The Fourth Estate. The press and its newfound influence. As a journalist, you form part of the Reporters' Gallery that hold my government and the powerful of this kingdom to account. As my authority diminishes in this new age of constitutional monarchy, so your freedom to enlighten the people grows. Now I need you to help me sway public opinion against the North Mountain Company." Her eyes flashed. "I need you to help me try and turn my people against my own chartered company."

"But how, your Majesty?" asked Reimund. "I'm just a journalist. I can't take on all the nobles and traders that support and control the Company."

"The Company can do as it pleases because of my government's support for its trading and military ventures. Kristoff has no one to please but his shareholders. But were the public to protest the government's support for a dangerous corporation, my ministers wouldn't have a choice but to legislate and limit its colonial excesses." Elsa's smile was grim. "My people voted my ministers into power, and if my ministers don't listen to them, they can be voted out. Only public opinion can persuade my ministers to constrain, if not dissolve, the Company." She sighed. "Are you willing to help me steer opinion in the right direction? Are you willing to be my first supporter?"

Reimund nodded earnestly. "I'll reaffirm this as many times as you wish: my pen shall be your voice. Let me get in touch with a few other journalists from the larger newspapers. And I'll need Your Majesty and Your Highness's help. We're going to wage a war of negative publicity against the Company."

Anna looked excited and uncertain at the same time. "You're taking the gloves off against Kristoff, then. Against my love."

Elsa reached over and held Anna's hand. They stared at each other, eyes reflecting the other's loyal gaze.

"I'm afraid so."

* * *

**Next chapter: From the barrel of a musket to the howl of a cannon blast, the age of Arendellian imperialism has begun! **

**Elsa is gathering her own allies. But can she match the coalition of vested interests arrayed against her? **


	4. I'll Still Be Here In The Morning

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**I'll Still Be Here In The Morning**

* * *

A/N: Queen Elsa must move quickly. The Company's wealth and military strength grows by the day, and Elsa and Anna need powerful allies if they are to prevent Kristoff's self-destructive path. They must match his rage against Hans and the world with an equal determination to stop the Company! The shadow of war between Kristoff and Weselton looms over the horizon. There's not much time left for the Arendellian monarchy. Will Elsa's Crown be reduced to a puppet symbol?

Thank you for your feedback, and if you enjoy the story why not leave a comment or review? As always, I hope you enjoy the chapter and stay for more! :)

* * *

It was dinnertime, and Reimund couldn't believe his luck. He was wining and dining with two royal sisters in their magnificent palace. One was Arendelle's Princess and the other his Queen. They were kind. They were welcoming. They seemed genuine. He couldn't help but notice their beauty. For an overworked journalist like him who rented a grubby shoebox apartment in the heart of Arendelle and considered a piping hot meat pie and cigar a luxury, this was an unmatched honor.

"Is it good?" asked Elsa hopefully, watching the political correspondent of _The Witness_ wolf down the mashed potatoes, before moving quickly on to the roast pork and apple sauce. The three sat together at the edge of a long table, which was decked from one end to another with lavish dishes and treats for dessert. Venison, stuffed goose, seasonal berries and imported fruits from elsewhere, the finest Arendellian chocolate fondue, pound cake, and so much more… it was so extravagant it was almost shameful. The siblings peered at the hungry commoner with a mixture of expectation and amusement. Elsa looked radiant in her signature azure, crystal dress and cape, whilst Anna had donned her favorite black top and lime blouse. They had purposefully prepared this generous feast for him. He didn't dare believe it, but this was really not a dream.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," warbled Reimund, covering his stuffed mouth as he struggled to give a dignified answer. His white shirt's front already had a large gravy stain: thank goodness he'd draped his brown jacket behind his chair. "You think me an influential writer, but that has no bearing on my very humble finances." He gulped down his bite, and took a deep breath, adjusting his spectacles. "Your Highness, are you finished eating already?"

"Yup. And please, Reimund," said Anna, taking a sip of grape juice in her glass (she was a bit more careful with wine ever since she broke a chandelier in a drunken romp with Kristoff), "I'm calling you by your first name. Why don't you call me by mine?"

"Anna's right," said Elsa, nodding at a mortified Reimund encouragingly. "You're not a servant. You're a journalist employed by a private company, and now I've asked you to stake your professional life on our… struggle to wake up Kristoff. Titles and accidents of birth aside, let's work together as a team. As equals."

Reimund set down his knife and fork, bowing his head in respectful gratitude. "I will never forget this gesture of utter generosity. I'll also never forget your humility, which more than legitimizes your right to reign," he declared. "To return your kindness as soon as possible, I don't want to relax for too much longer. If I may, Your Majesty… I mean… Elsa… I'd like to propose to you and… Anna… how we may start putting pressure on the North Mountain Company."

Reimund's pale cheeks blushed. Calling them by their intimate first names almost seemed wrong, but if they wanted it, then…

Elsa nodded eagerly, leaning forward slightly from her chair. "I'm all ears, Reimund."

"We journalists are obsessed with framing narratives for our readers. We need to offer the public two perspectives: the first will persuade them that they can trust you and Anna about your opinions. On that front, we've got a huge advantage over Kristoff and his friends. Kristoff might be famous, but he's not exactly charming. Yet we common people adore our Queen and her heir apparent," he reminded Elsa and Anna pointedly. The young women glanced at each other sheepishly. "So along that strategy, I'd like to publish a few interviews with you in _The Witness_. We'll present to everyone your views about the Company there. That should generate some buzz and open a debate."

"I suppose it's true," admitted Anna. "If we don't favor the Company, others might start asking why."

"And as they do so, we'll try to persuade them by force of your personalities. My ladies, I'll being doing several features about you two to utterly seduce and captivate readers to our side. Kristoff will very soon discover he can't control your voices, nor the influence _The Witness_ has over its readers."

"I'm not good with interviews, so you'll have to guide me. I think Anna would be much smoother at sharing her thoughts," sighed Elsa.

"Don't let me blurt out something stupid, though," quipped Anna.

"The second perspective will be harder. We need to feed our readers a steady stream of stories that reinforce a strongly negative image of the Company." Reimund glanced pointedly at Anna. "What do they mainly trade in?"

"Well, Kristoff is all about ice," said Anna thoughtfully, "but Elsa, didn't you get a report from the Prime Minister about the Company's Board of Directors…?"

"Yes. They have four Directors, including Kristoff, who is also the Governor." Elsa paused for a moment, thinking. "Four supreme leaders above their officers and sailors, four distinct industries. Apart from ice, I recall seeing fur, spices, and opium being the other main three."

Reimund nodded, sipping his glass of aged wine. "Well, there's nothing to get readers excited about ice, but we've got a perfect angle on fur. The trappers bash the skulls of seals and beavers before skinning them. That's the truth," he added, noticing Anna's horrified face, "no distortion there. Let's do a few reports about how cruel the Company's trappers are. Let's insinuate that they would gladly skin our readers' pets alive to make a quick gold coin. There's a weapon more powerful than muskets or even the facts: it's public perception."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably. "Reimund, I'm not so sure about the integrity of your plan – "

"I'm sorry, Elsa," interjected Reimund, raising an apologetic but firm hand. "Kristoff has the richest bankers and merchants of your empire on his side, and your public servants are comfortably tucked in his coat pocket. He's already got enough funds to pay his Presidency Armies. Do you really want a subject of your realm to be able to defy you with his own private armies? Armies loyal only to gold coins from him?"

Elsa stared at Reimund, horrified. "That would be treason!"

"Kristoff would never!" cried Anna, as if to reassure herself. But of late, she wasn't so confident in him.

"I don't want to imply anything. But we _have_ to play dirty if we're going to agitate resentment and hatred against the Company. That's what you summoned me to do, and for you I'll gladly drag myself through the mud so neither of you have to." He paused. "I beg your forgiveness. That was the first and last time I'll ever interrupt my own sovereign so insolently."

Elsa looked down at the table, looking chastised. "Thank you for filling me with a much-needed dose of resolve. I must be stronger than this," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Please, continue."

Reimund glanced in slight panic at Anna. "Did I go too far?" he mouthed.

Anna grinned and winked. "She's not angry at all."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Reimund carried on: "Do we have any information on the other territories that the North Mountain Company wants to extract concessions or land from? Your government has already been ceded part of the Southern Isles. What's next?"

"My spies report that Hans fled to Weselton after my Royal Navy attached the Isles' ports, and is holed up in the Duke's castle. I have no affection for that dominion or for its ruler, for he called me a monster. But to be unable to stop Kristoff on his rampage of vengeance against Hans means that Weselton will be an innocent casualty of our expansionism too," sighed Elsa. "I despise the Duke, but I genuinely worry for his realm and his life."

"So the Company has set its sights on conquering Weselton," said Reimund. "Where else do they have interests?" His eyes widened in sudden realization. "Spice! Spices!" he exclaimed, pointing to the many wooden shakers on the table. "Where do you get all your spices from? The Company's officers, of course! And they had to have imported a great deal of it from Agrabah."

"Of course!" cried Anna. "Everyone's read about the homeland of the legendary pauper-turned-prince and his amazing genie. But it's kind of crazy the Company managed to sail that far and make a base there, too," she added, looking at a grim Elsa nervously.

"Well, that's why their merchants got together. To pool their resources into a single organization that can fight multiple fronts. To employ mercenaries to overpower those who don't want anything to do with them. So aside from the Southern Isles, Kristoff's allies have been moving against Weselton, and I'm sure one of the Company's leaders has traders and residents in Agrabah."

Elsa could tell that it wasn't just about the spices. She had never been to Agrabah, but when her late mother read bedtime stories to her and Anna, Agrabah seemed to lie far to the east. It seemed a powerful kingdom, much more ancient than Arendelle. "But I'm sure you're aware of the situation. Other states have been vying for the spice trade too. And to secure Agrabah's allegiance, the Company's recruited thousands of native men to be trained and employed in their Presidency Army. Protecting the spice routes means protecting the region's sovereignty and their own city ports," said Reimund.

"Agrabah is effectively a protectorate, then," replied Elsa, quickly catching on to the Company's methods: to divide and conquer entire continents. "Their leader must have struck a deal with the Company. Give the Company indirect control over taxes and military affairs, and maintain partial independence and treatment as more or less an equal by the Company's officers." _I'm starting to get the hang of this now. It's a ruthless game_, she thought somberly. _With all its holdings and investments, the Company might soon have even more gold than my coffers. And they dare to recruit a private army in the open. They have neither shame nor fear_.

"Agrabah's current Sultan is a woman," observed Reimund. "I hear she's sensible and knows when to back down from a fight – hence her acceptance of the Company semi-colonization of her territory. But I also read that she's a proud character. If you can convince her you actually don't like the Company and would like assistance in suppressing it, she would gladly rally her people to rebel in the name of independence… and _that_ would make the headline that really sets our agenda." His eyes shone. "Elsa, I strongly recommend you summon Sultanah Mariam, direct descendant of the folk heroes Jasmine and Aladdin."

Elsa's eyes hardened in resolve. "Excellent advice, Reimund. Anna, summon my couriers and have them draft up an invitation to Mariam. I want to roll out the most lavish welcome my country can offer an equal monarch. I must convince her that our royal house is actually seeking to neutralize the Company's colonial excesses." She paused. "Reimund, do any of your colleagues know the movements of the Company in the coming few months?"

"One of their new ships, Predator, is sailing to Agrabah soon. The delegation of officers is led by one of the Company leaders, Stefina. She deals in the opium. Now that they've monopolized Agrabah's spice trade, they want to make every nation addicts to their drug," replied Reimund.

"Then have this particular Stefina deliver it to the Sultanah. We'll need Mariam's knowledge of the Company and the extent of its empire as much as we need Reimund's expertise."

Anna eagerly clapped her hands, laughing in glee. "A fellow royal in our court? I'm on board!"

Elsa drew herself up proudly. "Just as Kristoff has placed himself and three fellow Directors against the entire world, I, as Queen of Arendelle, must have a triad of allies to answer him: my dear sister, Reimund, and a fellow monarch."

* * *

The fun of the early evening had worn off. It was late into the witching hours, and she couldn't sleep.

_Please, Elsa. Come to me, so I don't have to stumble into your room like a terrified girl… even though I sure feel like one_.

Anna's hand trembled as she held a quill over the parchment. The candle had almost burned itself out. Soon, it would blow out, and Anna would have to reach for the lanterns. She had drawn back the curtains, seeking the beaming moon, but it was raining outside, and the stormy clouds had obscured eventide's only natural source of light. The vastness of her bedroom was a curse on these nights, and far from giving her space, it felt cold and unwelcoming.

The storm was coming. Anna never liked the lightning and thunder.

A slow knocking came from her door, and Anna sighed to herself in embarrassed relief. "I'm glad you came," she called softly.

"Dear sister," said Elsa, looking worried as she walked inside. Looking beautiful and slightly vulnerable in her sapphire nightclothes and black stockings, she quietly tiptoed over to Anna. "You aren't fast asleep yet?"

"I'm… I'm trying to write a letter to Kristoff." Anna swallowed, staring at the blank sheet of paper on her desk. Elsa watched her struggle to express herself (a rare sight), noticing that she had worn her green nightdress the wrong way round. "To tell him that if he doesn't stop disobeying you and come home… I have no choice but to make myself useful to you. To force him back, if that's what you need."

Elsa pursed her lips, her eyes shining in concern. "You don't have to do that. Just because I've written to Agrabah's monarch…"

"But I want to," interrupted Anna, smiling bravely. But her voice was shaking. "He needs to learn a lesson. He can't just turn against you, Elsa, and expect me to just follow him blindly along like some dumb dog – "

Elsa placed her hands on her little sister's shoulders. She sifted her fingers through the latter's red locks. "Dearest Anna. He'd never expect you to follow him. Why else do you think he hasn't taken you with him on his ship?"

"Honestly, I don't know which feels worse," croaked Anna.

"You've been so worried about this that you've become absentminded over everything else. You don't have to do this. This is a conflict between Kristoff and me, between the future paths this country can take. I only ask that you understand what you owe the Crown, and support me accordingly. I still bless your love for him. I still care for him. I could never hate him." She drew down, putting her face close to Anna's and nestling her chin on Anna's shoulder. Anna's mask slipped, and she closed her eyes in deep pain and sorrow.

"Elsa, I love you so much. And he means so much to me too. This is a family argument… times, like, a thousand or something."

Elsa chuckled. Even in her darkest moments, Anna had a way to make her laugh. "I'll always be here for you and him. We're trying to stop him from going down a dark road because of Hans' evil. That's all."

A single tear slipped down Anna's cheek. It wasn't easy to control herself anymore. And from Elsa's patient, inviting body language, she didn't need to either. Her hands left the quill and parchment and reached for Elsa's arms instead. She turned around and buried her face in Elsa's embrace, sniffling quietly. Elsa kissed her again and again, wrapping herself around Anna's trembling form until the pattering rain outside the castle was forgotten and the parchment lay ignored. "I'll hold you until your worried eyes close. The rain will be gone when you wake up. But I'll still be here in the morning," she cooed, whispering those words of comfort in Anna's red ear. Anna held onto Elsa tighter, and she'd never know when she had relaxed enough to loosen her grip. Only then did Elsa carefully carry her to her bed, and even then she kept the sleeping Anna warm until sunrise.

The Queen's alliance was slowly coming together. But how would they deal with their connected affections and conflicted tensions?

* * *

_One month later_

Beads of sweat rolling sensuously down their bare legs and torsos, the dancing girls stamped their jingling feet on the exquisitely patterned carpet, bowing and bending their slender hips to make way for the approaching opium dealer. Dressed in her sleek black and red Company uniform, Stefina made her way past the veiled slave girls and other members of the imperial harem. She first had to pass the courtesans, then the male courtiers with their veiled slave girls fanning their corpulent forms. Finally, she stopped at the dais, on which sat a languid figure smoking an opium pipe. The woman on the throne had a tanned, smooth complexion with calculating, calm eyes. Her ebony-black hair was rich and luscious. It spilled down loosely behind her bared shoulders, and her navel was exposed. Only a slain tiger's skin bound her torso, and her long legs were covered by a silken yellow dress with patterns of peacock tails. Her sandaled feet peeked out from the bright silk.

Stefina had travelled through the baking hot heat and the bustling, chaotic Agrabah marketplaces to arrive here, in the great palace of Mariam, distant heir to Sultanah Jasmine and her commoner husband, Aladdin.

"Greetings, Company director," said the Sultanah curtly, watching Stefina look around the half-open throne room-cum-courtyard. Her feline gaze was both scornful and suspicious.

"Hello, Mariam. I'm here on business, like last time," replied the opium dealer, with an equal amount of disregard and sarcasm. She pointedly didn't use Mariam's royal title. "The shipments have arrived, as you wanted. I'll talk to your taxmen about the payments. You have new prisoners and convicts in your dungeons, don't you? Hand them over to us and we'll whip them up into fighting men who can use muskets to fight off the other princes who are trying to take over your dominions."

Mariam brought her pipe, whose end was shaped like a cobra, to her arresting, red lips and inhaled. "You are aware that my enemies are trying to steal my land because of your very gainful plantations, yes?" she asked resignedly. The cloudy fog momentarily blunted her anxiety and frustration at the fact that it would take years for Agrabah to obtain the same kind of sailing and gunpowder technology as Arendelle's. She had done the best she could when the Company's merchants arrived at Agrabah's littoral ports: an alliance with the Company, she promised herself, would help her fend off the other princely powers surrounding Agrabah. But the merchants of Agrabah now depended on the Company's supply chains of spice, sugar, and cotton. Mercantile dependence led to military dependence on the growing Presidency Armies of the Company that were becoming a much more common presence in Agrabah's economic centers. It didn't help that the Company welcomed recruits of local birth, making Agrabah's economy and the Company even more reliant on each other. Eventually, such mutual reliance could end up in political submission – and the Sultanah had personally inspected the mighty cannons and muskets of the Company's ships and soldiers. It would be her, not the Company, to be forced to submit.

Mariam had no choice. Until there was an opportune chance for a war on equal terms, she would subject great Agrabah to this indignity of protectorate status. For now, Agrabah was a semi-colonized kingdom. She had to acquiesce to indirect foreign rule, but one day she would have her revenge on Arendelle, swore Mariam to herself silently. _For Jasmine and Aladdin's legacy_.

Stefina smirked inwardly, watching the once-proud ruling class of Agrabah succumb to the addiction of her irresistible poppies. The Company's opium was some of the finest in the world, and people of every class in Agrabah had embraced its refined qualities enthusiastically. The opium's symbolism of involuntary, resentful submission was positively… exquisite. She flicked back her brown hair and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "By the way, our most generous monarch invites you to join her all the way up north, in cold Arendelle," she added. She handed one of the servant girls a letter, signed and sealed with the coat of arms of the Snow Queen. "I was given this by an officer of the Royal Navy before leaving Arendelle. Sadly, I can't read it, sealed as it is and addressed only to you. Wouldn't you like to meet the monarch who helped our Governor found this magnificent corporation?"

Mariam's regal brown eyes narrowed as her attendant quietly glided over and placed the sealed letter in her outstretched hand. "You don't need to taunt me. I granted your goons extraterritoriality on one very simple condition: that you leave my people and I in peace. That means that you don't address me as an equal, let alone an inferior. You call me 'Your Majesty'. Understand? Our signed treaty, approved by your own Governor Kristoff, demands that."

Her lip curled, enjoying almost perversely Stefina's enraged glare. "Uncultured whore."

Stefina fumed, her hand briefly clenching in the itch to bash in the Sultanah's smug face. "At least you've got the good sense to know who's pulling the strings here. Don't forget, _Mariam_ – there are plenty of other emirs and nawabs who'd gladly be a bit more obedient than you for the crumbs we toss for your kingdom. What a superior empire gives, it can take away!" she laughed spitefully, turning away and storming off. She pushed aside a terrified dancing girl, who tumbled aside. "I'm leaving this sweltering backwater!"

Mariam ignored the opium dealer and turned her attention to the envelope. She stared at the letter, which seemed authentic, and tore it open, looking suspiciously at the text. To her amazement, it was written in flawless, almost calligraphic Arabic. She had no idea Arendelle enjoyed scribes of this caliber. It read:

_To Your Majesty Mariam, Sultanah of Agrabah,_

_I address you not as a ruler of a protectorate, but as an equal and fellow monarch. You might be shocked and suspicious at this assertion. You and your people have experienced firsthand the belligerence and gunboat diplomacy of the North Mountain Company. I assure you that the individual who helped me deliver this letter to you is not my friend. The North Mountain Company is not a corporation friendly to me, either._

_Let me absolutely clear: the Company is acting on behalf of its Board of Directors, not on mine. It is a long story, and I cannot explain such a complex conflict in a short letter. But you know better than I, that in their greed to monopolize the world's spice trade, they make war with whomever they please and forge alliances with whoever suits their pursuit of gold. Your Majesty was only one of many victims. I know of more._

_In my country, I am a symbolic head of state. Arendelle's constitutional monarchy severely restricts my powers to constrain or dissolve the Company. So I need allies. Allies to turn public opinion against the Company, and friends who can inspire entire continents and kingdoms to confront its excesses and military power. _

_I beg you to sail to my palace at Arendelle with an entourage of your elite guards. I will welcome you as my equal and, if you may allow me the honor, as an ally. Together, we can turn the tide against the Company. When we meet, I shall tell you how._

_Yours warmly and truly, in regretful contrition and hope for forgiveness,_

_Elsa, Queen of Arendelle._

_PS. Please do not forget to bring warmer attire. My kingdom is far colder than yours._

Mariam's thin brow furrowed as she clenched her hand around the letter, scrunching it into a ball. Her dancing girls continued to prance about, oblivious to the dark, uncertain thoughts in her head.

Could she trust the Queen of Arendelle? Did she dare believe this letter?

"Prepare my ship. I'm sailing to the north," she called out to one of her viziers.

* * *

**Next chapter: An alliance fit for queens! Queen Elsa meets Sultanah Mariam, sparks fly! **

**And the Company invades Weselton with its Presidency Armies to kill Hans, once and for all!**


	5. Queen Elsa and Sultanah Mariam

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Queen Elsa and Sultanah Mariam**

* * *

A/N: True war has begun. Everything is about to change: The Company has deployed the full weight of its forces to bear down on Weselton and punish its protection of the fugitive Hans. Meanwhile, Elsa prepares for her meeting with Sultanah Mariam of Agrabah, whom she hopes can be a powerful ally against the Company. The full extent of Elsa's counterattack against Kristoff's expanding corporation will come to light soon…

Thanks very much for reading and for leaving any reviews! As usual, please let me know what you think if you like the story. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

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It was not a good day behind the ramparts of Castle Weselton. News of a mighty fleet of ships, carrying thousands of privately trained mercenaries, had sent the inner court into a panic. Already reports of cannonfire on Weselton's shores had reached the central government. The country's best generals were now deploying their armies to face this new threat. But many of the coastal defenses had been caught by surprise and were already overrun.

"How dare they invade my territory, and in the name of that monstrous witch, that demonic queen of hoarfrost and deathly winter!" raved the mustached Duke, pacing up and down the hall of his throne room. "First their sanctions, cutting off of diplomatic ties, and now this!" He gesticulated futilely at his assembled ministers. "Stop them from getting anywhere near this castle!" He couldn't stand still, and his chest was dangerously tight. He clutched at his breastpocket, heaving. All the memories – of her rejecting his first overtures for a dance at her coronation, the revelation of her witchery, her banning trade with Weselton – all of it bubbled up into a venomous hatred. "Damn you and your insults, Snow Queen," gritted the Duke, "damn you!"

"Your Highness," interjected the minister. "This land force doesn't seem to be affiliated with Arendelle's Royal Army or Navy!"

"Indeed," piped up another. "Our scouts report that their ships have different masts, and their uniforms also lack the insignia of the Snow Queen."

"Then what are we dealing with, you fools?" puffed the Duke impotently, waving his fists at everyone. "A rogue force? It's just inconceivable that the Queen herself wouldn't have endorsed a military expedition so large! And why are they invading, anyway? We might have broken off economic ties, but never has that wench Elsa even hinted that she wanted my land!"

Suddenly, the doors to the throne room slammed open. "I have received a letter from a courier of the North Mountain Company! They're the force behind this massive invasion by sea and land," cried a panicking minister, striding in. His hands were shaking. "It says if… if we don't… hand over Prince Hans…" He looked at the trembling Duke in terror.

"The Company's armies will kill every man, woman, and child they encounter on their way here!"

* * *

_Arendelle Palace. Anna's room_

"I… erm… think… hurting animals is… really bad. Especially the way the guys at the Company kill all those seals to drive up their fur sales. Blood and all. It's just horrible, y'know?"

Reimund lowered his pen and notebook, sighing as he looked sympathetically at the women sitting across from him.

"I know you don't seek limelight from the press, Anna, but I didn't think you'd be this tongue-tied," chuckled Reimund, who had grown used to their wish to talk to them as equals.

"Aw, come on! I'm not exactly a public speaker," cried Anna, as even Elsa shook her head, rubbing the ridge of her nose in tired exasperation.

"This isn't the most convincing of interviews," said Reimund quietly. "Please, Anna. You've got to articulate your thoughts a bit more eloquently."

"What am I supposed to say that'll be good reading for _The Witness_?" asked Anna, stumped.

"Try directing your focus to some simple talking points," advised the journalist. "For example, when I asked you about how you felt about the fur trade, you could have talked about how horrified you felt when you learned about how the beat seals and beavers to death. And what's the official government line on intoxicants? Regulated and restricted, yes?" he prompted, turning to Elsa. "Well, how about this: the Southern Isles are struggling with opium addiction thanks to the mass smuggling of poppies by the Company. There are increasing numbers of Southern men who are visiting local opium dens that get their drug from Stefina, one of the Company directors. There's definitely a negative edge around this. We need to talk about it, throw it out into the open."

"Reimund's right," said Elsa. "We need to point out all the moral shortcomings of the Company's activities, or else people won't know why we're speaking out against it. The political motivation will be too hard to hide."

Anna nodded, after several moments of thought. "Let's try this again," she said confidently, adjusting her high collar.

But before they could continue the interview, there was a knock on Anna's door. "Your Majesty!" came a servant girl's muffled voice. "Three magnificent elephants are standing outside the palace gates! I've never seen such magnificent yet gentle beasts! The foreigners riding them are asking to see Your Majesty. They claim they received a letter written personally by Your Majesty!"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "And who is with those animals?" she called back, heart rising hopefully.

"A woman, two serving maids, and two bodyguards! They claim one of them is a member of royalty! They certainly look it, Your Majesty. The jewels and fabrics on them and their elephants are unmatched in beauty! I've never seen such a lavish procession on such massive creatures."

Reimund and Anna perked up. "Could it be…?"

"She's here. She's finally arrived," whispered Elsa eagerly, standing up, the interview momentarily forgotten. "Do you mind, Reimund? A guest awaits our welcome.

"_The Sultanah of the Kingdom of Agrabah_!"

* * *

A bayonet buried itself in the heaving breast of a farmer. Gore sprayed from the wheezing man's dribbling mouth as he dropped his pitchfork and slumped at the end of the bloody musket. His wife would have screamed were it not for the musket ball that had blown her skull apart, and her headless body slumped beside her bawling little boy as tall soldiers stood around him. They were wearing dark blue jackets wrapped around maroon red tunics. Black navy boots and tricorne hats completed their uniforms, outfits that would be soon feared throughout Weselton for good reason. A rough, pitiless hand descended, yanking the weeping boy away from his mother's headless corpse. Elsewhere, a round fired from a line of the soldiers' muskets mowed down fleeing villagers of the forest. They collapsed in pools of blood, twitching and moaning briefly before stilling.

"Please, spare us," shrieked one of the surviving farmers, holding his bloodied hands in front of him in capitulation. "You know we're not in any shape to resist you."

A new row of uniformed soldiers emerged from their comrades' retreating line, rapidly readying and loading their muskets in silence.

"You fiends! You have no conscience!" screamed another woman, clutching her daughter's corpse to her bosom and clenching her eyes shut.

"FIRE!"

The muskets discharged their deadly ammunition in unison, and then there was silence. There were no more voices.

The Presidency Armies were on the march.

The men were from many different backgrounds: most of them were born in Arendelle, although some were the Northern Isles, and others even further away from Agrabah. They were disciplined, hungry for gold and glory, and armed to the teeth by greedy profiteers. Regardless of their background, they now served a meritocracy: the viciously pragmatic and one-minded North Mountain Company. First they punched through Weselton's coast, burning down the villages and towns in a very deliberate plan to force the Duke's hand. After all, it was only Hans that Kristoff wanted. All he needed to do was to break the Duke's spirit enough to convince him that Hans wasn't worth the destruction of his entire kingdom.

Once they approached the capital, every man, woman, and child would be fair game. Anna was innocent, yet she almost died at the hands of Hans' assassin. Why should enemy innocents not suffer a similar fate?

At the head of the vanguard were Baron Anskar and a Presidency officer, whose form was shrouded by a red hood and cloak, hiding the face and much of the body. The flag of Arendelle – a dark blue background with Queen Elsa's signature snowflake in the center – and the emblem of the North Mountain Company billowed high in above the Presidency battalions. The bulky nobleman sniffed the air, his hairy nostrils expanding. "I smell fear in the air," he muttered, as a large body of Weseltonian soldiers blocked his way. The late arrivals had clearly not been expecting this ambush on a completely innocent village. Their rush to intercept Anskar's forces clearly showed on their faces and slightly disorganized formations. The enraged soldiers aimed their muskets at him, and he grinned.

"Move aside! Our target is Prince Hans, though I couldn't care less if more of you weasels spilled your guts," he laughed.

"Move one step forward and we will shoot! We'll never let you step foot inside the capital of our great kingdom!" yelled the battalion commander.

"Flee now… this is your final warning," called the grizzled Anskar. "I assure you that if you don't, we'll massacre you lot without losing a single man. Are you sure you want to find out how we can do that?"

The Weseltonians advanced in an orderly line, and aimed their muskets directly at Anskar and his men.

"Very well, then. Draw blood for me," crowed the Company director.

The hooded officer beside him drew his glimmering sword, which didn't look Arendellian thanks to its curved edge, and dashed forward, sprinting at the Weseltonian soldiers. "Fire, fire!" screamed the battalion commander, but the hail of whistling balls never found their target as the officer ducked and skidded along the dirty pathway, spinning into the throng of screaming soldiers and slashing relentlessly at their bayonets and bodies. Two instantly folded in half, eviscerated and severed at the waist by the blinding speed of the officer's sword. Their comrades screamed in terror as the exotic sword sliced upwards, splitting another Weseltonian soldier in half from pelvis to crown. His organs spilled out crudely, rolling onto the muddy ground as the officer decapitated two more stunned soldiers. The Weseltonian formation collapsed into chaos, and from then on it was outright murder.

Blood and brains dashed the mysterious, frighteningly powerful warrior's cloak as he pivoted, kicking away a musket from a defender's hands and narrowly evading another bayonet to his head. He counterattacked, spinning and bringing his sword down diagonally. He disemboweled his bellowing attacker in one clean stroke. He further thinned out the enemy ranks with an arcing slash to his side, felling four more hapless men at once.

The body parts and tattered, torn uniforms of the Weseltonians littered their native soil.

"Who… who is this monster!" cried one of them, as the Company soldiers cheered and Anskar looked on proudly.

The terrifying, formidable officer spun again, hacking a cold and methodical path through the battalion, until the lines had been completely broken and the surviving infantry were scrambling away for their lives. The officer ignored the fleeing ones, beheading a defiant lieutenant and sending the shocked, gaping head flying high into the air. He quickly riposted and parried a firing musket, sending the pellet into a fellow infantryman. His comrade howled in grief and rage, his last emotions as the Company officer mercilessly gutted him, filleting his innards like a fishmonger at the market.

The commander roared in desperation and thrust his musket at the officer, who simply ducked and slashed up, cleanly slicing the weapon in half. He then drew his saber and slashed it down, but to his utter shock and terror, his foe's reflexes were simply too quick: preternaturally quick. He watched, stomach churning in dread, as the enemy calmly, effortlessly caught his descending sword with a mere thumb and finger.

Time itself seemed to slow for this stupefyingly accomplished warrior.

The commander struggled to wrench his blade away, but was too late as the curved sword pierced through his chest, burying itself into his fluttering heart. The last man to die, he groaned as he slumped against the hooded officer, grabbing on to the shawl.

"Who… who in heaven's name are you?" he whispered, falling to the ground and taking the mantle with him.

The red cloak fell away to reveal not a man, but a tall woman of ashen-grey skin.

She had small, beady eyes, and night-black hair that seemed to fall past her waist, like the wild mane of a beautiful horse galloping on the prairies and plains. Unlike the other Company footmen, she wore attire from her homeland: bearskin knitted into dull beige cloth with furry boots made from the hide of wolves. She breathed lightly through her thin, ashen lips, having barely broken a sweat.

"Well done," praised Anskar over the deafening, approving roar of the Company men. Fists, muskets, and hats were raised high in celebration of this incredible, one-woman rout. "Most bloody and brutal, Amira. I knew it was worth recruiting a barbarian – erm, I mean, Hun – into our ranks. Your steppe ancestors and their legendary chieftain, Shan Yu, came close to toppling the Chinese empire, which our Company also has trading interests in. You are the strongest soldier in all our Presidency Armies!"

"All of Weselton's combined warriors are no match for me," said Amira plainly, without a hint of arrogance. She was simply stating a fact, an informed judgment based on personal experience. "Not even Arendelle's armies, or yours, can hold a candle to my blade."

_If only Hua Mulan was still around. She might be able to put up a fight, and I could avenge Shan Yu too_, she thought wistfully.

Her eyes flashed. "Give me a real challenge, Baron. That was what the Company's directors promised me, and only then did I agree to leave my tribe to serve you. Do you foresee a confrontation with Queen Elsa? I've heard of her magical powers of ice and snow. She sounds nearly invincible."

She glanced scornfully at the corpses of the Weseltonians, feeling unusually talkative. There was no honor in butchering defenseless novices. "She's the force of nature I want to cut down."

For the first time, Anskar looked hesitant. "Look, lass. Kristoff and I aren't keen on open treason. I'm still a subject of the Queen. But I can promise you that any who block our profiteering can be a legitimate target for you."

"But what if Queen Elsa stands in your way?" insisted Amira.

Anskar's throat suddenly felt drier than usual. "I said anyone, alright? Must you force me to say? Do you really want to pick a fight with her?"

Amira flicked the blood off her sword and sheathed it. Her next words chilled even the seasoned Anskar, who wasn't unused to inflicting brutality.

"I want her head mounted in my yurt."

The Hun woman's penetrating eyes glinted. "If you don't give me worthy prey, Arendellian, I'll go hunting on my own."

* * *

Standing in the royal gardens (there wasn't enough space in her throne room), Elsa nervously watched the three massive elephants slowly kneel to the ground. She stared up at their thoughtful eyes, their flapping ears, and majestic ivory tusks. They were clearly of royal breeding and training, such was their discipline and quiet dignity. From their backs slid the two bare-chested, dark-skinned guards, tall and muscular, with exotic weapons Elsa had never seen before. There were two beautiful maids too, veiled and dressed in the most dazzling of orange and violet silk. Their quiet grace was mesmerizing. They smoothly alighted from their mounts and helped the last woman descend from the docile central elephant.

"Your Majesty," proclaimed one of the strapping guards suddenly, making Elsa jump a bit, "announcing Her Majesty Sultanah Mariam, ruler of Agrabah!"

The Agrabah maids also prostrated themselves before the woman, whose slim torso had tiger's skin wrapped around it, and a thin yellow dress with patterned flowers covering her lower body. She stepped forward in her open sandals, which contrasted with Elsa's heels of ice.

Elsa suppressed a gasp. She had waited many agonizing months for this, for the ship from that distant land to cross the seven seas and into her northern domain. The guest she had longed to see – she was beautiful. She had rich black tresses, as Elsa had never seen before, with sensuous chestnut eyes and a brown complexion that seemed to radiate the heat and power of the very sun. Her expression betrayed her hesitation, for she was unsure of Elsa's intentions.

One of the elephants snorted, blinking his eyes sleepily.

"I am Mariam, ruler of Agrabah," said the dark-haired lady, placing her palms together in her kingdom's traditional gesture of greeting. She looked around the plants, the flowers, and the trees of the northern continent. "You have a beautiful garden, Queen of Arendelle. These shrubs and blossoms seem to thrive even in a climate of dry cold."

"I insist that you call me Elsa, Your Majesty," replied the other, putting a hand on her heart. She couldn't help looking in fascination at Mariam's attire, which was so special, so dazzling and fearless, more revealing and audacious than any dress she'd ever conjured. Mariam also looked impressed by Elsa's cryokinetically woven dress and cape. "I'm so grateful that you had the faith to come here. I know my letter wasn't a good guarantee of my sincerity. But I had nothing else to offer."

"It's true that I've come at the behest of your rather unusual letter. I trust you'll tell me what prompted you to share such strange thoughts with me. Just what do you want with me in this apparent conflict with the Company? Which, I daresay, I despise more than you?"

"I have so much to apologize to you about, including the Company. I'll repeat this again: its directors are not my allies. You and I must work together to bring them to heel."

"I must admit… I'm a bit suspicious. I would've thought you supported the colonial enterprise: it's a shock to discover that you don't. We have much to negotiate about your Company's problems, but something tells me that your letter was genuine." Mariam drew herself up. "If what you wrote in the letter is true – that you see me as an equal and fellow monarch – then I'd be willing to place myself in your care."

Elsa sighed in relief, momentarily forgetting protocol and striding over to Mariam. For the first time, a look of surprise flittered over Mariam's face. Elsa was fully aware that her less-than-formal welcome had caught the Agrabah head of state off-guard, perhaps made her even more suspicious. But if there was one thing she learned over the past few years, it was that no one should be forced to hide their true thoughts, and especially not in times of emergency. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly. I'll explain everything to you at length tonight, once you've bathed and made yourself at home. But in a simple summary, this is my plea to you."

Elsa and Mariam stared at each other. "We must inspire rebellion among the people who have suffered the excesses of the Company. People like the common subjects of your homeland. At the same time, I can't be linked in any way to those rebellions, or I might well be forced to step down. I must put my political life and my entire family name on the line, for the Company has grown simply too powerful. I must do it to save my own country from becoming beholden to powerful merchants, and to save someone I love dearly from walking the path of vengeance."

"And you want me to encourage rebellion among my countrymen. Against your own chartered Company? That could mean all-out war in Agrabah, possibly Arendelle," confirmed Mariam, in near-disbelief. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. For a monarch to encourage rebellion against her own forces seems like madness to me. I've never heard of a more ludicrous plan."

"And I've never thought of something so crazy," insisted Elsa. Her hands gently took hold of Miriam's arm in a slow, languid kind of desperation. Mariam didn't flinch at the touch of pale palms and fingers around her dark skin. "I'm at the end of my tether, Mariam. My kingdom's constitution has stripped me of any real political power. My only hope is to rally public opinion against the Company, to bring entire communities and societies against this uncontrollable hydra. I can't do this without an alliance with you, ruler of the Company's largest protectorate. So, Sultanah – will you help me?"

Mariam gazed at Elsa's pleading face, before looking down at the hands that held her forearm so anxiously.

"You are me," whispered the Sultanah.

Elsa blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You must feel helpless like I do. Spice monopolies. Opium smuggling. Military control and occupation. The Company has made my empire a protectorate, and I can only bide my time while I and my people suffer indignity after indignity," said Mariam, and Elsa reluctantly nodded. "It takes courage to admit that. I must say that I'm pleasantly surprised by your honesty. Perhaps I don't need to bide my time if you are here. Perhaps now is the time for action." For the first time, a small smile began to creep along Mariam's face. She put her own hand over Elsa's knuckles, clasping the Queen's fingers gently.

"Have your servants attend to me while I use your baths," she said, to Elsa's delight. She leaned in closer, and Elsa didn't draw back. "There's still much we need to discuss and plan. I want to smell sweet for you."

They continued to observe each other's faces, the other's lines, contours, and irises, perhaps longer than either expected. Mariam's mysterious smile broadened. "I suppose you want me to talk to you about Agrabah," she deduced. "About my people. About myself."

Elsa eagerly nodded. "Tell me about your world. I have so much to learn."

* * *

**Next chapter: Continents and queens are joined at Arendelle! **

**The Company and Weselton enter total war!**

**Mariam reveals a secret that will change her relationship with Elsa forever.**

**And Reimund breaks a series of scandalous stories about the Company… **

**Team Elsa's fightback begins!**


	6. Blizzard and Inferno

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Blizzard and Inferno**

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A/N: As the North Mountain Company continues to expand its imperial and economic reach, Elsa scrambles to assemble an alliance of like-minded commoners and royals alike that can help her shift the tide of public perception against Kristoff's vengeance-driven venture. But it is too late to stop all-out war between Weselton and the Company, and Elsa must bear witness to the redrawing of national boundaries, and to the assimilation of new colonies into Arendelle's empire. The world of Disney will never be the same again…

Thanks for reading my story and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Reviews appreciated and welcome as always.

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_REVEALED: The North Mountain Company and the Debasement of a Proud People: An Investigation into Opium Production on Plantations in the Southern Isles._

"What in the barren wastelands of Nifhelm is this?" snarled Baron Anskar, waving the most recent issue of _The Witness_. "Since when did Arendelle's most conservative gazette turn against the merchants that make the country prosperous? The taxes I give from my fur trade have doubled the revenue of the public coffers! How dare the government lob an attack at us like this!"

"Not the government. Someone higher. Still, _The Witness_ isn't a rag to scoff at," said Kristoff quietly. His arms were folded as he stared out of the manor's windows in brooding thought. "It can count government ministers among its readers. And it's fairly popular amongst politically engaged subjects of the Queen, too."

"Look at what the article says: _Not only is one in every three Southern Isle man a frequent visitor to an opium den, but soon the trade will be legalized to keep up with the demands of native addicts_." read Stefina in her copy of the magazine. "Frankly, I couldn't care less about this article's author: Reimund was his name, right? But this kind of reporting will cast us in an… inconvenient light. No one likes to see themselves as the exploiter. What should we do, Sigurd, master of spices?" she asked, turning to the sickly hunchback next to her. "_The Witness_ will ruin my opium trade over my dead body, and I'm sure you feel the same way. If this Reimund fellow ever finds out about the slaves on your spice plantations…"

The clean-shaven, handsome director of Arendelle's spice trade coughed into his napkin, and he hastily folded it lest the others see the blood. "Excuse me. My apologies." He gathered himself, running his fingers through his brown hair and rubbing his rather square jaw, His robust, masculine appearance didn't befit his frail, terminal condition. "Obviously, _The Witness_ has planted journalists in our midst, trying to dig up every minor fault they find with our businesses. There will be more like these articles in the future, I promise you, splashed on the front pages of this magazine and in its editorials and commentaries… on its own _The Witness_ might only influence a small circle, but should other newspapers and gazettes see sales from attacking us…" He coughed again. "It might damage our reputations irreversibly."

Kristoff's three allies sat together around a small round table, but their gazes were directed at their standing primus inter pares. "What should we do, Governor Kristoff?" asked Stefina. "Fight fire with fire? Find some friendly writers who can defend us?"

"There's no money to be made by defending private companies, and I'm not about to subsidize clerks to compete with Arendelle's newspapers," said Kristoff. "I'll request an audience with Elsa. Tell her she's not fooling anyone. She's obviously made some friends in the press. I need to make her see sense. A few starving journalists aren't going to stop me from punishing Hans for what he did."

Stefina nodded. "Anskar, what news of our invasion of Weselton? Have we made any progress on that front?"

"Three objectives. Force open their ports to our monopoly, punish their helping Prince Hans, and present that fugitive's head to Kristoff on a silver platter," chortled Anskar. "That's the way our boy wants to avenge Princess Anna's near-death at his hands."

"Kristoff?" prompted Sigurd. "Is that a fair point?"

"Not quite how I'd express my search for justice, but I'll take it. Anskar, you said you had someone who could lead our military expeditions. Amira was her name, right?"

"Yes, Kristoff," replied Anskar, grinning bestially. "She'll lead our main forces against Weselton. It's going to be quite a show… there's no one quite like her. No one who can match her skill and ferocity." He began to guffaw in ecstatic anticipation of the carnage to come. "_She'll singlehandedly level Weselton_."

Kristoff rubbed his stiff shoulder and sighed. "Elsa might hate me for this, but I'm counting on Amira's brutality to finish off Hans. Now let's get to work."

* * *

It felt interesting but pleasant to wear a different nightdress from the cotton gowns her slaves spun for her back home. She stroked at her jet-black hair with a borrowed brush from Elsa, staring around at the incredibly high ceilings of her guest bedroom. Feet bare (she wasn't used to the slippers the Arendellian maids offered her), she walked over to the tall window and gazed out at the ports of this foreign, unfamiliar kingdom. The masts of the gently rocking ships blew quietly in the midnight breeze. She only knew Arendelle's darker side: it had given birth to a powerful, mercantilist corporation with ships and mercenary officers seeking wealth and power. Yet it had a shining side: it was reflected in the golden hair of its blue-eyed monarch, a woman with an integrity that she had never thought possible…

"Are you all rested and warm, Mariam?" asked Elsa hopefully, opening the door. They smiled at each other. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Was I disturbing your private thoughts? You must have so much to think about."

The Sultanah of Agrabah nodded slowly. "No, please come in. This is a magnificent palace. Its architecture has many attractive aspects. I must offer you and your country my respect, regardless of what the Company is doing."

Elsa's heart swelled in grateful pride. There was something about this fellow royal that had instantly not only earned her respect, but her curiosity too. And it wasn't really because she looked different, although she was indeed striking. Conversation with her seemed so much easier, so much more natural compared to the other monarchs and diplomats she met on a weekly basis. Even with her broken Arendellian, which had clearly been learned hastily at the last minute, Mariam seemed incredibly fluent about statecraft and the trends of the world. To consolidate their growing mutual goodwill, Elsa resolved to learn the language and script of Agrabah as soon as possible. "I burn with hope to see your kingdom's magnificent temples and mosques one day, too. For now, though, I must cut out the cancer that is turning my otherwise innocent kingdom into a rapacious empire. We can help each other do this."

Mariam nodded. "I expect we'll discuss our strategy to deal with this… Governor Kristoff… over breakfast."

"Only the finest of our country's bread, juice, and fruit for you," affirmed the Queen of Arendelle. "I'll make the preparations with my maids."

Elsa had expected this exchange to indicate the conversation's conclusion, but apparently that was not to be. Mariam had turned away from the window to face her. Loose drops of bathwater still ran down from her bangs and onto her forehead. "You are known as the Snow Queen in my homeland. Tales of your authority over the elements of winters Agrabah will never see have travelled far and wide."

"The legends about me are not always accurate," pointed out Elsa, with a tinge of wistfulness. "Sometimes they make me sound sinister. I assure you that I wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Before I came, I had my imams tell me more about you. They say your father locked you away for fear of hurting your sister."

Elsa felt herself shudder at the memory of what she now knew was abuse at the hands of her own parents (no matter how well-intentioned). "Your clerics did their research."

Mariam moved closer. "I envy you. You merely hurt your beloved sister. But you reconciled with not only her, but also your own demons. And now look at you – stronger and happier than you've ever been. And yet I can never say sorry to my eldest brother, the son who should have been Sultan."

A hundred different emotions hit Elsa the moment she realized what Mariam was implying. She stared into the foreign woman's dark brown eyes, those pools of emotion that now seemed to spill over with grief. What was the Sultanah saying – that she was never meant to ascend the throne? "Did you suffer a greater burden than mine? What is this power of yours that cost you your elder brother? Ice magic?"

"Listen to me, Queen Elsa. I have no dominion over rime and cold. But… I have a secret that I was forced to hide after burning my own brother into ashes." Mariam slowly raised her arm, and to Elsa's astonishment, a ball of dancing fire, about the size of a clenched first, burst into existence just above Mariam's palm, its heat and light warming and partially illuminating her face in the darkness of the room.

Yes, this was Agrabah – embodied in its scorching element of fire, just as ice captured Arendelle's.

The warmth was real – Elsa knew by raising a hand near the flickering light. She stared in wonder at the writhing sphere atop Mariam's palm. This revelation was so sudden, she didn't know what to think: it was a mixture of shock and joy, mainly. Yes, fire could be dangerous: even as she looked at Mariam's hand in amazement, she was acutely aware that supernatural pyromancy could easily challenge her cryokinesis, perhaps endanger her life and the entire kingdom. "So there were children… like me. I almost don't dare to believe it. Mariam, are you sure I'm worthy to be entrusted with such a secret?"

"I'm the only one I know who was born to reign over fire," said Mariam quietly. "Perhaps there are more, in empires and kingdoms we haven't heard of yet. I mastered my control over Agrabah's elements of flame and inferno many years past, but it was too late for my brother. He had assured me, with his last breath, that it wasn't my fault. Can you imagine? Even in the charred ruins of our palace, which my inferno had destroyed." For the first time, her voice shook with sadness. "His comfort wasn't particularly convincing to me, especially when I was cradling his charred body when he died. He may have forgiven me for murdering him, but I have no interest in indulging myself so shamelessly."

"You've confided in me about something that has haunted you for too long," said Elsa, sympathy and sorrow overwhelming her. She knew. Oh, she knew all too well how Mariam felt. It felt like Mariam had had it even worse. "And don't you dare use the word 'murder'. You did no such thing. I don't know the late crown prince of Agrabah, but from what you've described, there's no chance he would wish you to bear this burden for so long. You have lost more than I can ever imagine, and I was already terrified enough of hurting Anna. Yet…" She almost instinctively raised her hand, allowing Mariam to glimpse a miniature cloud of snowflakes swirling about. Mariam's eyes widened, witnessing Elsa's powers for the first time. "Your brother and my sister. They seem so alike," Elsa continued, staring at the Sultanah, "and I know it's not even the third night of your stay here, and I feel closer to you than I've ever felt to most people."

"I must confess to feeling the same way. I've told you my darkest secret, almost as if I was possessed, so please lock it away. I suppose you've confided in me a fair deal too, in the past few days. That your enemy is Princess Anna's fiancé is quite hard to believe." Mariam gazed at her host. "But now I understand why it is so difficult to defeat him. You are so different to the greedy buccaneers of the Company. It's hard not to believe your side of the story. I'll try to aid your cause."

Elsa lowered her head shyly. "I have faith that with Anna, Reimund, and… you by my side, we can achieve anything."

They continued to stare at each other, contrasting shadows and light from Mariam's fire running along their faces. It was as if they had spent hours in this room, in each other's presence, with, private, vulnerable thoughts running amok. "I love Anna, and I know I can bring back my friend Kristoff from the brink. And I have Olaf too, who always makes me laugh. Yet I've felt so lonely, so hollow," whispered Elsa. Yes, yes she had. Until now. Until the very moment Mariam chose to trust her with her magical fire.

Mariam nodded. "I've sometimes felt miserable too, Queen of Arendelle."

Elsa's swirling snowflakes could just brush against Mariam's flickering flame. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden lump in her throat. "If… if I directed my magic to fall upon yours," she stuttered in a whisper, "would your fire burn away my ice? Or would mine consume it?"

"You can try, if you wish," replied Mariam, her voice equally quiet, although she masked her nervousness a bit better.

And so Elsa let her snowflakes rise and fall upon the flame, like a miniature blanket of sleet. The ball flickered and weakened, before dying, but not before the snowflakes were eaten up and melted away. All that remained were Elsa and Mariam's hands, inches apart.

Slowly, yet almost compulsively, Elsa reached out with her pale fingers, staring at Mariam's smooth, dark, beautiful skin. "Forgive my impudence, Sultanah," she croaked in the darkness. "I don't know what's come over me."

The mutual touch felt like a balm to a stinging scar, fresh water to parched lips.

"Only you know about my curse, for my family are all dead," muttered Mariam, "and now I don't know why I told you. We barely know each other."

"Wrong on both counts. I already feel as if I've known you intimately for far, far longer than the few days you've spent in my home. And this… this is no curse, dear Mariam," said Elsa, clasping Mariam's hand completely, tightly. "It may feel like one now. But you will find that it isn't."

"How can you tell me that with such confidence when this… power… cost me my brother and the love of my parents?" moaned Mariam, turning away. Her scent was one of spices, and Elsa's of roses.

"I will prove it to you," said Elsa without hesitation, drawing closer, face unconsciously close to Mariam's shaking head. The flush on her pale cheeks was much more prominent than Mariam's blush. "You and I are kindred spirits beyond our political objectives. I won't abandon you, queen of fire. How could I, when you've just entrusted me with what is at once your greatest power and deepest weakness? Your magic has enchanted me like a candle draws a moth."

Mariam couldn't look at her. "It's late. No royalty should spend the morning's early hours like this."

"You told me all this because you want consolation. And I will offer it gladly," insisted Elsa, her heart set and resolved. Something about all this… just felt right. She wanted to do this. She desired this in a way that she had never desired before. The Snow Queen slowly undid her braids, allowing her blonde tresses to fall behind her freely. "My body was never mine. It belongs to my people. But you: anything for a royal friend like you. I'll hold you for as long as you feel comfortable, a blanket of gentle snow to your warm fire."

She put a tender, inviting hand on Mariam's shoulder, and the Sultanah finally met those glimmering blue eyes, her usually indomitable gaze a mixture of relief, gratitude, and growing affection. A flame had ignited, and the ice was melting.

Elsa wouldn't return to her room that night. Her chief maid would wait in vain for her to come back, falling asleep by the door to the royal quarters until sunrise came and the two queens awoke in the solace of each other's arms.

* * *

**Next chapter: War. Amira the Hun unleashes the Company's armies, and her deadly blade, against Prince Hans and the Duke of Weselton!**


	7. Pax Arendellia

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Pax Arendellia**

* * *

A/N: The political and emotional stakes have never been higher. A profound attraction has erupted between the Queen of Arendelle and Agrabah's Sultanah. Can they weather their confused but joyful drama as the Company deploys its full might against Weselton? And can Anna and Reimund expose the Company's crimes for public opinion to force the government's hand, as Elsa hopes?

Thank you for following this story and I hope this new chapter is worthy of your relaxing weekend! Feedback and reviews are always welcome. I'm very open to constructive criticism since this is my first Disney fanfic. I hope you enjoy the expanded Disney world with the original characters. But in my delusions, it seems Olaf and Sven got lost in the mix. I got suggestions from a couple of kind readers that they were sorely missing, so keep an eye out for them soon!

* * *

Her smiling, slightly breathless face was the last thing Elsa saw before she drifted into blissful oblivion. Usually regal and unapologetic, Elsa instead felt bewildered and bothered. She didn't know quite how to understand what they'd just shared, yet there was no way they were mere allies, or even friends, anymore. How could you call someone you held tightly beneath the blankets a mere friend? A sister? She had certainly shared Anna's bed on many occasions, as her counsel and best friend. Yet her emotions were anything but sisterly. Even Elsa, so starved of a normal courtly life and never having enjoyed a relationship in her twenty-four summers, knew at least this much.

The morning star shone through the tall windows, prompting Arendelle's sovereign to stir. She rose from her prone position, smoothing her mussed blonde tresses. "Good morning, Mariam," she sighed contentedly, stretching out her arms and rolling her rounded, pale shoulders. She sleepily adjusted the black lace of her form-hugging, crimson corset. She looked down at the topless, quietly snoring woman who had set her heart and body alight: the Arabian beauty who had come to her shores and transformed her and her world.

A whole new world…

"… My Mariam?" Elsa cooed softly again, running a finger along that rich, disheveled raven hair and those full, slightly parted lips. She gulped, throat suddenly dry. Dare she address her as hers? Did Mariam feel the same way at all? Did she even have the right to assume anything, when an Arendellian corporation had colonized Mariam's kingdom? _But she has already forgiven me_, she reassured herself. _All she expects is for me to do the right thing and topple the monster I've created. I swear I won't disappoint her_.

Mariam's eyes fluttered open, taking some time to adjust to the foreign environment and Elsa's scent of roses. They stared at each other coyly as the full weight of their newfound emotions came crashing down on them.

"_Subhan Allah_. Glory be to God, you're beautiful," whispered Mariam, reaching over and placing a languid hand on Elsa's bare, soft lap. "What have you done to me?" Her words were reproachful, but her dark brown eyes were full of keen warmth. "My imams would be furious if they knew about this. They'd never let me set foot inside a mosque again."

Elsa let out a giggle. "My bishops said something similar. I'm supposed to be the Defender of the Faith in this country. But I was never an avid churchgoer."

"I'm so sorry, Elsa. We haven't even put together a plan of counterattack against the Company, and all we've done is – "

"Embrace each other? Comfort each other?" protested Elsa, fluttering her eyelashes. "You didn't desire that? I want the Company subdued as much as you do, but I thought you enjoyed... well, me. You certainly looked like you did." She remembered when she chastised Anna for falling in love with someone she just met. Even though her advice turned out to be good – that someone was Hans, after all – she now felt a bit hypocritical.

"No, I did enjoy it. Never have I felt so accepted and cherished." Mariam shook her head, unable to suppress a smile at the fresh memories of exchanged caresses. "But your kisses were rather clumsy, like you were nuzzling a cushion. It was funny," she teased gently. "You've never known relations with a duke or king, have you?"

"Don't say that, it's so embarrassing! They were my first kisses," cried the Nordic monarch, covering her blushing face girlishly. "I tried my best to mask my inexperience."

She peeked out from between her long fingers. "If… if you want more, you must promise me this is all real. That your feelings are true."

"Of course. You're not just an addition to my harem back home."

"I'd better not be," grumbled Elsa, lightly pinching Mariam's cheek in a rare moment of possessiveness. "My heart is fragile. Hold it gently."

Mariam raised her hand to stroke at a loose strand of Elsa's hair. "And I won't say a word to anyone. Best keep this private, away from your courtiers' eyes. Here in Arendelle, I'm a guest. Diplomatic immunity doesn't mean power."

"I won't shout this from the rooftops either. But if someone asks, I won't lie. I was done repressing myself a long time ago. I even sang a song about it."

"Wait, what?"

"It didn't sound so silly back then. Anyway, we haven't hurt anyone," continued Elsa, beaming. "And I'm not duty-bound to love a duke or king. Anna will inherit my throne, before passing it to her and Kristoff's children." Her face fell. "At least, that was the idea."

"Ah, yes. Kristoff. You said you had grand plans for him until he went astray," murmured Mariam, yawning sleepily, black hair scattered across her pearl-white pillow. "How do you feel about him? I know you don't hate him like I do. I think you're actually quite fond of the Company's Governor."

"Are you jealous?" asked Elsa cheekily, trying to get back at Mariam for the kissing jest.

The monarch of Agrabah smirked. "Perhaps. But more importantly, he is my nemesis. He is the leader of the Company."

"You hate him, and understandably so." Elsa sighed. "He belongs to Anna, but I've seen firsthand what a gentle and courageous man he is for her and his friends." She twirled a finger around a loose strand of her golden hair. "In another world, Anna and I might have been bickering, spoilt brats fighting over him. But now it's different. With you here in my palace, on this bed, things feel much simpler."

They were holding hands when a loud banging shattered their meandering bliss. "Your Majesty!" came a maid's sudden cry, which was accompanied by a furious knocking at Mariam's door. "I've urgent news!"

The women of snow and flame jumped slightly at the interruption. "How did you know I was in here?" called Elsa indignantly. "Florence the chief maid… poor girl must have waited for me the entire night."

"My deepest apologies for the interruption, Your Majesty!" came the reply. "The North Mountain Company is laying siege to Weselton! Its officers have coordinated a pincer attack by both land and sea. The fall of the capital is only a matter of days. The palace must make a statement on the Company's occupation soon!"

Mariam and Elsa looked at each other, eyes widening. "They conquer and occupy, and I take the blame," said Elsa in disbelief. She ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing her face. "I'm the body sovereign of this country, after all. It's ingenious, really. How could Kristoff do this to me? He's become more ruthless than Hans."

"What are you going to do?" asked Mariam.

"I'll turn this to our advantage. We'll show all the people of Arendelle the true face of Kristoff's nightmare. Summon Mister Reimund to my throne room at once!" cried Elsa. "Have I got a scoop for him!"

"At once, Your Majesty!" came the maid's voice.

* * *

Three massive warships had cut off the fleeing Weseltonians that attempted to evacuate the heartland. White, majestic sails billowing, Kristoff's _Rime Clipper_, Baron Anskar's _Nemesis_, and Stefina's _Dread_ blockaded the only fjord from which the Weseltonian vessels could reach safety. Now, no one was safe from the wrath of Kristoff. "They're out of luck, aren't they?" cackled Stefina, flicking back her brown hair as it blew loosely in the wind, along with her slim red Company coat. She observed the dozens – no, hundreds of small boats with crying women and wailing children. The men looked the most amusing, what with their faces and fists clenched in helpless rage and hopelessness at seeing the Company's largest ships in their way.

"Ooh, look. They're all in smudged rags," she mocked, squinting to see better their distant expressions of terror and hate. "Our blockade must have starved out most of their trade. Don't blame us – blame your failure of a Duke for sheltering that dead man walking, Hans."

The Company director turned to her first mate, a slim and ropy young woman with a bandana and grimy white shirt. "For Her Majesty the Queen of Arendelle. Load the cannons and fire at will!" she barked at her, her voice rising in passion. "Opium saved me from my life on the streets, and I'll be damned if anyone takes my riches away from me!"

Her first mate turned around and relayed her orders, cupping her hands around her mouth as she howled for the destruction of Weselton's civil populace. The cannons released their mighty roars of gunpowder and sulfur, and the Company's director of the opium trade quivered in sadistic delight as her ears were saturated in the sounds of wood splintering and cannonballs smashing into screaming human bodies. Weselton's waters were quickly sullied with her people's own blood, their pulverized bodies, and splintered wood from the ruined ships. Those fragile, soft, utterly breakable living carcasses, so easily crushed into pulp by a well-made cannonball, but just as well destroyed by a lifetime of addiction to her drug.

"_Nemesis_! _Rime Clipper_!" she roared, clenching a fist as returning cannonfire from Weseltonian boats rocked her ship. There were a few Weseltonian sailing ships left, and they bravely remained to stall the Company. But the latter's warships would make short work of the paltry navy. "Don't let the weasels break our siege. Spare neither sailor nor civilian!"

All was not well for the Weseltonians further inland, either. The flag of the Company was raised high above the hundreds of elite Company musketeers that were tearing through the defenders. The pincer attack by both land and sea had pre-empted any allied aid from Weselton's neighbors. The cannons had already been rolled into place, and the fuses were lit. "Fire!" cried the squadron commanders, and the immense, Gothic entrance to Weselton's capital shook, on the verge of collapsing. The Company men were literally the enemy at the gates, and they were about to march through the realm's heart. The occupation and national humiliation of Weselton was inevitable.

Suddenly the gates burst open, and an advancing lines of Weseltonian musketeers, garbed in their tall hats and expensive regalia, charged at the Company men, screaming in desperate bloodlust. The gates creaked shut when the entire regiment had blocked the Company's way into the capital. But they were out of luck. At the head of the Presidency Army was Amira, who had pulled back her woolen hood. She wasn't on the dry steppe anymore, but old habits died hard. The heir to Shan Yu's Hun armies drew her sword, staring coldly at the enemy soldiers. They were the remnants of the resistance. Their comrades in different regions had put up a good fight, delaying the Company advance day after day, but the story was the same on each occasion: Amira's invincible blade was enough to wipe them out.

The Weseltonian musketeers fired as one at her, and she ducked the projectiles with preternatural agility, rolling forward and leaping at them as they scrambled to reload. She parried the bayonet thrust from two of the panicking men and smashed her fur boot into the nearest defender, crushing his ribcage and burying his bones in his organs. She spun effortlessly through the crowd, beheading and eviscerating a path through the falling bodies of enemy musketeers. There was a crude elegance to her sheer strength, as powerful and irresistible as a stampede of prairie stallions, a primal force and scientific ferocity that the refined, disciplined musketeers had no hope of containing. She dug her sword into a crying Weseltonian and filleted him, slicing him in half. She grabbed his dripping upper body, which was spilling gore and guts uncontrollably, and held it up as a shield, allowing a hail of musket balls to bury themselves in the dead man. She charged forward, shoving the carcass at his revolted and enraged friends.

"What are you waiting for, Company warriors?" she yelled above the shrieks of her victims. She parried a bayonet and cut down its owner. "Glory in plunder and pillaging awaits us. Are you all too weak to join my charge?"

Emboldened by her rebuke, the Company soldiers surged forward with a great "_HURRAH_", pointing their bayonets at the enemy and locking them with the Weseltonians in a vicious free-for-all. Sharp, deadly blades burst through men's uniformed torsos as they stabbed, hacked, and swung at each other. Others gave up on their muskets in the heat of close quarters melee and drew their sabers, hacking and slashing into their foes like demons possessed. As men fell all around her, Amira waved for the cannons to renew their fire, and pointed at the city's walls.

"Scale them!" she barked, as Company troopers holding makeshift ladders ran past her. Fire from the ramparts blew apart the head of one of the men and pierced into the leg of another, crippling him and sending his screaming form tumbling to the muddy ground. Explosions of dust and dirt splattered the grimy, bloody belligerents, hurling Company soldiers into the smoke-choked air. Another ladder troupe managed to make it to the foot of the wall, only to be picked off one by one by Weseltonian muskets. A final shot sent the raised ladder falling back to the ground.

"Useless! I could scale the Great Wall in half the time we're taking here." Amira shrugged at the failed attack, calmly shifting her feet to slip past the musket balls being fired at her from above. She looked up, tilting her head slightly to dodge one that whistled dangerously past her left cheek. The ground was dashed with wayward balls of metal as she waited for a final volley to destroy the door. "Any moment…" she muttered to herself.

The sun was setting across Weselton, and the evening star was rising.

A mighty _boom_ shook the ground_._ The wood of the main gate began to shatter, cracking and falling apart as the cannons continued their relentless assault. "One last push! Fire!" screamed a Presidency commander, and with one last volley, the gate crumbled from the holes punched by the cannonballs, falling onto the corpses of the Weseltonian defenders. Amira grinned wolfishly. At last! She ignored her comrades and sprinted past the walls, and the terrified city opened up before her eyes, civilians and soldiers fleeing amidst the emptying houses and churches. No one bothered to even try confronting her. The Weseltonian capital was lost.

"The gates have collapsed! They've splintered before the might of our cannons! Charge! Charge and loot the city!" roared the lieutenants, raising their sabers high in the smoking sky. The mercenary soldiers bellowed in triumph as they sprinted chaotically past the city walls. Most of the commoners had already fled, but it was understandable: those who didn't flee would be raped, robbed, or killed. The Weseltonian capital was ripe for plundering. The Company's troop formation collapsed into irrelevance as its members helped themselves to the victory, firing and stabbing indiscriminately and grabbing weeping women, with little concern for their status as civilian or soldier, aristocrat or pauper. The mercenaries (for that was what the Presidency officers and troopers were at heart, with no allegiance to the Arendellian Crown) had split into small groups, roaming the streets of Weselton for women to rape and men to murder. Already there were some gangs carrying loot like golden plates or bags of gold from inside deserted houses. Another group of uniformed men stabbed their bayonets repeatedly into a gurgling peasant lady on the cobblestone, their lust and sadism overwhelming their rationality and conscience.

Amira ignored the screaming people around her and looked around, seeking out a specific target. There were still some remaining warriors, but the Duke was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he hadn't the courage to fight alongside his troops, which wouldn't be surprising. "Battalions," she growled, "spread yourselves out and hunt down the Duke. If he refuses to sign the treaty and pay indemnities to Arendelle, deliver his head to Kristoff. I'll chase down Hans. He's my prey."

"Yes, general!" shouted the Presidency lieutenants, raising their sabers and directing the unruly troops towards the Weseltonian palace in the distance.

Amira's beady eagle-like eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of the detested prince's fearful countenance amidst the scrabbling crowd of Weseltonian civilians. The narrow face, the tall frame – everything about Anskar's description fit the fleeing man's profile. Did this prince really think he could hide from her?

Her smiled broadened, heart quickening in bloodlust. At last, she had quarry to pursue.

"Hans."

Kristoff's most wanted.

The hunt was on.

* * *

_Arendelle throne room_

Elsa felt strangely nervous as she watched Anna and Reimund meet Mariam for the first time. The royals' long years of isolation until only just three years ago had denied them any chance to see places beyond the shores of Arendelle, and they had certainly not encountered exotic fauna like elephants nor met people from other cultures… until now. Anna was visibly awestruck as she complimented a slightly amused Mariam on every floral detail of her yellow silk dress. "It's such an honor to meet the ruler of legendary Agrabah, Your Majesty," cried Anna. "You're the ruler of an entire kingdom. If there's anyone who can openly oppose the Company's crimes, it's you."

Reimund was somewhat scruffily dressed (he couldn't afford a better suit than his brown jacket and trousers), but his manners were impeccable. He was truly a deserving guest of the royal household. "Welcome to our country of Arendelle, great Sultanah of Agrabah."

"Peace be unto you both, and the privilege is all mine," said Mariam, who didn't seem willing to slip into more clothes despite Arendelle's chillier climate. Perhaps the tiger's skin that bound her torso, the only piece of clothing on her otherwise bare upper body, was warm enough. "I intend to take the Company to task for exploiting my countrymen. I'm moved and encouraged that Arendelle's head of state understands my grievances and wants to help me."

Elsa grimaced. "A new, oppressive kind of Pax Arendellia is sweeping across the world. I'm inheriting an empire I never wanted, and Kristoff has fallen further into the darkness in his obsession," she observed, nodding at a worried Anna. "Reimund, prepare for many sleepless nights ahead. In the coming months I want the Company to be the most reviled, unpopular corporation in the entire country."

Reimund nodded. "By your word."

"I have to relay my plans to my imams and generals back home, so I should start writing some letters to my supporters. We can coordinate a rebellion against the Company officers in Agrabah," said Mariam. She put her palms together, just in front of her chest, and bowed at the waist, lowering her torso before Anna. "This is our gesture of greeting and farewell, an offering of peace," she said, ignoring Anna's frantic urging to rise. She rose and turned to Elsa. "In the rush of the past couple of weeks, I forgot my manners. Let me present this to you, too."

Hands pressed together, she bowed again, this time before the Arendellian monarch. Elsa stared at her for several moments until she raised her head and stared up, their eyes lingering on each other. "I predict heavy losses in our impending battles, but I believe it worthwhile if Agrabah can throw off the Company's yoke."

She rose and nodded at Anna. "Goodnight. I'm sorry I won't be joining you three for dinner. But I'm glad to be amongst friends."

"See you in the morning, then," said Anna, smiling.

Mariam turned back to Elsa. "Good night, Elsa."

"Don't work too hard, Mariam," replied Elsa awkwardly.

"I'm just writing a few letters."

"Oh. Of course."

In plain view of princess and journalist, the Sultanah casually put her lips close to the Queen's red ear. Reimund raised an eyebrow and Anna blinked in surprise. "Thanks to you, I no longer dream about that shameful night. The charred rubble of my home, incinerated by my hand. My brother's unrecognizable carcass," whispered Mariam, and Elsa shut her eyelids tightly, struggling not to shiver at her voice. "You've cooled my burning guilt. The nightmares have stopped."

Even when Mariam wasn't creating Arabian fire out of thin air, her entire person smoldered with an irresistible, sensual honesty. "You're a _houri_ God has sent to make me whole."

Slowly opening her cerulean eyes, the Snow Queen nodded helplessly as her elemental opposite brushed past her. Her bosom pounded in tingling, longing anticipation.

This was not good.

"Elsa?" asked Anna, who had just witnessed the whole thing. A furious blush crept over her freckles. "Uh… are you okay? You look like you're, pardon the pun, um – _melting_?"

No. No, it couldn't be this obvious, thought Elsa to herself frantically. Not in front of Anna! Well, she was probably underestimating her little sister, who had much more experience in the ways of love than she… but still! "Yes. I'm alright," she insisted, regaining her self-composure. "Anyway, Anna, I had a discussion with Reimund earlier about our next step. _The Witness_ is helping to turn our subjects against the practices of the Company. Other newspapers and gazettes are getting in on the act because the public's appetite has been whetted about these scandalous stories. Soon the Company won't be able to operate without journalists following them everywhere, and when Agrabah rises in rebellion against Kristoff, it will be an earthshaking event that shakes my government out of their complacency."

"War. Rebellion. Revolution. An independence movement. Whatever you call Her Majesty Mariam's deed, it'll be history in the making," said Reimund, enthusiastic eyes wide.

Elsa nodded. "Yes. My government ministers will finally see how the Company is fighting wars like a sovereign nation, and fearful of losing their parliamentary power, force its dissolution."

Anna and Reimund looked at each other knowingly. Coming from Elsa, this was a pretty ruthless plan. But it was a brilliant one. One that they had faith in. "So Sultanah Mariam will mobilize her kingdom for war against the Company, while Reimund exposes the scandals and the occupation of Weselton. But how can I help?" asked Anna.

"Join Reimund in uncovering the facts about the Company's activities. Show the world its crimes in Weselton. On the Southern Isles. On Agrabah. Spare no expense." Elsa's blue eyes flashed. "But I'm not sending you two out there alone without protection. You're going with my snowmen."

"Olaf?" asked Anna in slight disbelief.

Elsa couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "Can't imagine what help he'd be. I was thinking of Marshmallow, but if you insist, I guess Olaf can join you too. Who knows? He might be the one who can defeat the Company."

She raised her arms, gazing at Anna and Reimund with an unexpected intensity. "Stay with me. Fight with me. We'll show Kristoff's cronies that I'm no puppet figurehead. Together, with my snowmen and Mariam, we'll bring eternal winter to the Company for defying me."

"That's my sis," cried Anna, thrusting a somewhat childish fist in the air. "Go Team Elsa!"

* * *

His long coat and trousers covered in dust and sweat, Hans stumbled through the panicking, stampeding crowd, wheezing pitifully as he forsook the troops who had protected him since he was forced to flee the Southern Isles. The Duke had failed him! He had said that Weselton's army and navy were enough to stop any invasion by Elsa. Yet this private corporation's army, apparently not sent by the Queen at all, was formidable beyond belief! When did the Arendellians manage to put together so powerful a force?

He staggered into a piazza, where there weren't so many screaming people and corpses. Thank the gods the Company soldiers were too busy looting the capital to bother too much with orders. He placed his hands on his knees, panting heavily. He didn't feel sorry for his humiliated brothers in his homeland of the Southern Isles. They had tried to hand him over during the Isles' negotiations for a ceasefire with Arendelle! But now Kristoff had very clearly set the Company's sights on him. Anna and Elsa deserved to be killed by his assassin! He deserved retribution for all his humiliations since the Great Thaw. There was no justice in this world.

"How dare they," he gritted furiously, his delusions of grandeur getting the better of him. "How dare they treat me like this!" he cried to himself, as more cannonfire rocked the walls of Weselton's capital.

He flinched as two fur boots slammed into the ground before him, blocking his route. He slowly backed away from the tall, ashen-skinned woman glaring at him. Where had she come from? Was she an angel of death sent from the sky? "Who are you, foreign barbarian?" he demanded fearfully, turning even paler than he already was.

"I'm Amira, a general in the Company's army." The powerfully built Hun stepped forward, raising her curved sword. "I was given orders to bring your head to Kristoff for your attempted murder of Princess Anna."

"No… no!" cried Hans, slipping and landing on his rear, scrambling frantically back, his eyes petrified. "I'll do anything you ask me! I'll give you gold, as much gold as you want!"

"I survive on roasted hare and goat stew on the steppe. What need do I have of money?" Amira's cruel smile broadened as she suddenly stopped.

"It's true that I was ordered to kill you if I come across you. But if I do so, Kristoff will have no reason to expand his Company's empire. He will have no reason to find enemies. Perhaps he will even make peace with Elsa. There will be no reason to expand, to conquer. The Arendellian Empire will be satisfied with what it has already won, and the Company will tame itself."

She leaned in closer, her breath reeking of iron and blood. Hans winced as she whispered into his ear. "I find that prospect deplorable, fallen prince."

"Wh… what?" he stuttered. He briefly mulled over drawing his sword and trying to stab her while she was talking, but he had this nasty feeling that if he tried, his head would be lopped off before his blade ever left its sheath. "What are you talking about?"

"Rebuild your support and armies. Send assassins against the Arendellian royal house and Governor Kristoff," she said viciously. "Turn the directors of the Company against one another. If you can help them kill each other, then I'll spare your life. I might even help you pick up the pieces when all the dust has settled, and rule over the shell of the Company so you can have your revenge on Elsa. Whatever you choose, I want you to weaken both the Company and the Arendellians. That's when I'll challenge Queen Elsa and kill her."

Hans was still trembling, but even his delirious mind could see the treacherous rationale in Amira's proposal. And killing Elsa seemed like something he could get behind. "You… you don't mind betraying Kristoff? Your leaders? All for what? More war?"

"Perpetual bloodshed," agreed Amira, eyes glinting. "I didn't leave my yurt and horses beyond the Great Wall to end wars. I came here to fight them. And I want the cream of the crop. I want to face Elsa. Besides, is it betrayal if no one expects any loyalty to begin with?" She sneered down at him. "Feel free to turn against me one day, if you wish. But at this point, you wouldn't benefit one jot."

Hans stared at her for several moments, before nodding. "I'll do anything for my life's safety. I'll do as you say, Lady Amira!"

* * *

**Next chapter: Amidst the plotting and intrigue, Amira sets her betrayal in motion – and the Company consolidates its rule over Weselton!**

**It's personal for Elsa and friends now…**


	8. Crisis for the Crown

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**Crisis for the Crown**

* * *

A/N: Welcome to the eighth chapter of a Disney continent-spanning conflict! Arendelle quakes in growing pains as it expands its territories into the Southern Isles, Weselton, and even Agrabah. Backstabbing, subterfuge, and deceit rule the day as Hans prepares to collude with the Hun warrior Amira into plunging the Company and Arendelle into civil war. Subject against liege! And in the eye of the storm are Queen Elsa and Sultanah Mariam, who must join this deadly game of politics…

As usual, reviews and feedback are welcome and appreciated!

* * *

In her throne room, where her ancestors had celebrated the ennobling of countless allies and loyal followers, Elsa stared down the man towering over her, the furious Governor of the Company and her sister's onetime fiancé. "I'm flattered you've sent your attack dogs against me, but it won't work. Get him off our backs," growled Kristoff, who looked remarkably intimidating in his red and black Company coat. "Call off that journalist."

But his Queen was undaunted. "Reimund is a respectable writer and a free subject under my reign. As are you. Don't forget that," said Elsa coolly. "Arendelle is a free society where you can say anything you want, even if it's about me. I'm not stopping him from writing what he wants about the Company. And don't you dare try to stop him from doing his work, or he is free to file an injunction of free speech violations to my government."

"Our officers will just deny Reimund's allegations about the opium plantations and the animal cruelty. Honestly, what are you trying to achieve? Because whatever it is, slamming us in the press isn't gonna work."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure." _I'm really getting into this politics game_, she thought to herself. "If he's publishing things you don't like, maybe it's _you_ who should look into what your traders and officers are doing in the Southern Isles, Weselton, and Agrabah. Perhaps you should give some responses to my people, who are starting to demand answers about your less than reputable practices."

Kristoff's eyes were cold. "This is about the Presidency Armies, isn't it?"

Elsa stared right back up. "Oh, it's about so much more. I almost feel sorry for you that I no longer support the Company at all."

"Money doesn't grow from trees," retorted Kristoff. "I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth like you. I was selling ice when Sven was just a damn calf. I know more about earning my way in the world than you'll ever need to be bothered with."

"And would you like some help carrying that massive chip on your shoulder?" bit back Elsa, no longer holding back either. In some perverse way, their increasingly harsh words for each other were indicative of the lingering trust and affection they still harbored: they would never betray such an ugly side to their other enemies. "What's your point, mister wealth creator?"

"That I need finances to destroy Arendelle's enemies. To catch and finish Hans. But it's not just him. There are people supporting him in different countries, and we can't let him find haven in those kingdoms either. The only way is to bring them under Arendelle's flag until all this is over."

"You mean the _Company's_ flag," argued Elsa angrily, "and I'm going to be stuck with this empire a lot longer than your petty campaign against Hans. Have you ever thought about what _Anna_ wants? That maybe she couldn't care less about Hans and that she wants you by her side, not losing yourself in hate and revenge?"

"This isn't about Anna," cried Kristoff, "it's about justice!"

Elsa stared at him, stunned. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. What's more important, Kristoff? My sister or your sick idea of justice?"

Before he could answer, the glass windows to her throne room cracked and shattered, shards tinkling deafeningly onto the wooden floor. Despite everything that had happened between them, Kristoff instinctively threw himself around a shocked Elsa, shielding her from stray shards that flew at them. His eyes widened as a coterie of masked intruders, clad entirely in black, glided past the windows and landed silently on the ruined floor. Two, three, four… there were five assassins, and they quickly positioned themselves, surrounding the bewildered pair. "They're just like the one who tried to shoot Anna!" barked Kristoff in warning.

"I can't believe you!" cried Elsa, pushing the Company's leader away and glaring at him. "Did you actually send these men against your monarch –"

Kristoff genuinely looked panicked. "Don't you dare. They aren't mine." He whipped around just in time to dodge a lunge from one that had sprinted up and tried to thrust a dagger into his face. "See?" He clumsily avoided another attack, before swinging wildly and sending the smaller assailant to the ground with a painful _thud_. He drew his saber from its scabbard, which was slightly shocking to Elsa. She'd never seen him with a real weapon before. But of course, she remembered sadly. He was the leader of the Company now. Of course he had to protect himself.

The masked assassins wielded sharp, miniature daggers that seemed to be crafted for throwing at the enemy, and they didn't hesitate to use them. "Who are they?" growled Kristoff, as he parried two deadly blades hurled his way. He sprinted up to the assassins and slashed wildly, but they danced away, somersaulting back from his swinging sword. "I mean, this isn't screwing around. This is real. They're trying to kill us. _Someone's_ trying to kill us both! Who sent you?" he barked at the assassins. But they only answered with a chilling silence.

It was the last straw for Elsa. She balled her hands into fists, cold vapor emanating from the fingernails that dug tightly into her palms. Traitors everywhere, and now they had even broken into the palace. How dare they put Anna and Mariam's lives in danger. How dare they enter this palace with such impunity! "If it's a fight you want…" she gritted, clenching her teeth. She screamed, her pent-up rage and sadness at last releasing itself in a burst of cold wind that hurled Kristoff away, slamming his back painfully against her own wooden throne. The other assassins struggled to move against the indoor blizzard, and they covered their masked faces as the howling hail and snow pummeled their bodies, rapidly covering the floor in slippery ice and water. By the time the whirling vapor dissipated, the assassins were staring at a huge shield, an impregnable wall that bristled with jutting popsicles.

"… You've come to the right place," snarled the Snow Queen behind her defensive wall, steam hissing through the icy diamond.

Kristoff groaned and forced himself up. "Wow," was all that he breathed.

Elsa waved her arm, and the conjured wall suddenly slid towards two of the cloaked men. It shot at them so quickly that they had no chance to escape the entire stretch of the enchanted barricade. Their shocked throats gurgled helplessly as the spikes stabbed into their squashed bodies, puncturing their heads, torsos, and legs with cold, bloodstained ice. Elsa glared at the remaining two assassins, who fell back, shooting desperately at her. She spread her arms, another wall of ice bursting from the floorboards. The lead balls from their pistols ricocheted uselessly off Elsa's shield. She raised a glowing hand, an eerie, cerulean glow swallowing her irises and pupils. "For the crime of attempted regicide…" She stomped her heeled foot, and jagged stalagmites erupted from the ground, much too quick for their targets to escape. One assassin screamed loudly as a stalagmite pierced through his groin and into his innards, killing him instantly. Another had tried to jump away – a dire mistake. A stalagmite punched through his stomach, impaling him neatly as he moaned and stilled, dropping his dagger.

Elsa strode over to Kristoff and hugged him tightly, and he happily returned the embrace, their conflict momentarily forgotten. "Kristoff. My Ice Master. Tell me it wasn't you who sent them," she said breathlessly.

Kristoff held her tighter. "Never. I swear. Are you alright?"

She released him. "Someone's trying to play us," she said quietly. "They either want us to kill each other, or plunge our own into in-fighting."

"Probably both," said Kristoff. "Someone wants both the Crown and the Company destroyed." He glanced around. "I need to get back to my directors. I guess… we can settle our differences another time."

"I understand," said Elsa sincerely. "I know we don't hold each other in the highest regard right now, but we certainly don't want each other dead. We might disagree over how to handle Hans. But this was never supposed to be a game of death."

"Yeah," agreed Kristoff. He looked at Elsa worriedly, before striding out of the throne room. "Be careful." Elsa's thoughts turned to Anna and Mariam as she began to pull her thoughts together. She stared at the silent corpses of the assassins and the broken glass shards. It was already night outside her palace, and the enmity between the Crown and the Company seemed to be getting much more complicated.

* * *

His coffee-colored coat draped around his chair, Reimund scribbled notes feverishly at his desk in the massive study Elsa had lent him for the duration for his stay. It was a magnificent environment to read and write. The Queen had lent him the keys to her entire library, allowing him to immerse himself in every subject under the sun, from politics to economics and foreign kingdoms. He was almost certain that he'd be the most educated journalist by the time his tenure here was over. His study was also extremely spacious, larger than his grubby apartment. He had a large table on which were piled books, notes, and past editions of _The Witness_. There was so much to work with, but he was under no illusions about how little time there was. Already the Arendellian occupation of Weselton had begun: administrators had already been brought in to regulate taxation and foreign trade levies. And as reluctant as Elsa was to implement colonial policy, she had her responsibilities, and had signed off a series of documents that would regulate open trade between Arendelle and Weselton.

"And thanks to Her Majesty, I have unrestricted access to the treaties and government documents signed by Parliament in the past year… this is a goldmine for a reporter!"

There was so much to write about that Reimund's hand was aching. He already had three articles lined up for his editor: two about the trafficking the opium wing of the Company was committing, and one about the way seals and beavers were being bred to slaughter for their fur. That would damage the operations of two of the directors, and now he was turning to the spice bureau of the Company: such was demand for spice at the tables of Arendelle's aristocrats that the Company was importing slaves from the Southern Isles and Agrabah to grow the plants and cultivate the substances! And then there was Mariam's planned rebellion against the Company, which he would be reporting on…

If the reputation of the Company wasn't in tatters by the time he was done, he would have surely failed Elsa.

"Come in," he called at the knocking on his door across the study room.

"You wanted to see me, Reimund?" asked Anna chirpily, as she tiptoed in. She looked around, playing with her braided pigtails. "Wow, you've made it cozy in here. Hope I'm not disturbing you."

Reimund chuckled, shaking his head in slight disbelief. "I'm sorry. I can't quite believe yet that you're letting me summon _you_."

Anna giggled. There was a certain charm to Reimund's grim determination to speak politely. It contrasted with the rough edges of Kristoff, who meant well but would never use deferential language even to Elsa. And right now, Reimund was a heck of a lot more cooperative than the angry Kristoff. "I'll do my best at anything I can help with. I mean that, Reimund."

"Don't forget me, too!" piped up a high-pitched, but undeniably male, voice.

Reimund blinked and looked around. "Who was that?"

Anna giggled. "Have a guess."

To Reimund's astonishment, a stout snowman no higher than Anna's knees was waddling behind her, complete with a carrot nose and… "Buck teeth?" he muttered to himself in disbelief. "Am I seeing things, Princess?"

"No," laughed Anna. "This is Olaf, our bestest best friend. Olaf, say hello to Reimund."

"Oh, you must be one of Elsa's big-shot allies," gushed Olaf, "I've heard everything about Kristoff going nuts, the Company going all berserk on Weselton – " He shuddered, and Reimund couldn't help notice the irony in a snowman shivering. "It sounds just oh-so-awful."

"Anyway," said Reimund, coughing politely. He put the most recent issue of _The Witness_ on the desk. "See the cover story?"

Anna picked up Olaf with her elegantly gloved hands and walked over. They stared at the cover and then each other, before laughing in glee as one. "I… I can't believe it. You've really published our interview. _Omigod omigod omigod_," she said exuberantly, admiring a vividly illustrated portrait of her own self. Anna's portrait peered at the reader almost sheepishly, resplendent in her royal coat and patterned collar. It was becoming her signature attire, and from Reimund's good mood, it was apparent that his readers enjoyed the narrative being shaped around her. "It feels so cool to appear in _The Witness_."

"All those hours spent posing and modeling for my artist really helped, milady," said Reimund. "Now we have the public's attention. They'll hang on to every word you say."

"If you want real marketing, you should do a feature about me," sniffed Olaf, looking self-importantly at his twig fingers. "Come on, I'd look great on a gazette cover! Anna, can I? Can I?"

Reimund tapped his pen on the mahogany desk, politely ignoring Olaf. "Do you mind me suggesting what you should say in our next interview, Princess?"

"Anything and everything you ask of me."

"Then first, the investigative report on the opium production in the Southern Isles. This Friday will see the release of my piece about the fur trappers. I've got a few informants who're leaking information to me. They know all about how the trappers treat the seals up north." Reimund grimaced. "They skin them alive, then kick them off the icebergs back into the ocean."

Anna looked sick. "I can't believe it."

Reimund pursed his lips. "You've already shared with our readers your revulsion about the fur trade. I hear from my editor that he's been receiving plenty of angry letters about the Company's ethics. Now let's critique their colonial policy: first Agrabah, then the Southern Isles… now Weselton. Obviously there's the prestige and power that comes with ruling an empire, but let's talk about the rising government debt and trade deficit between Arendelle and its colonies. But we can't investigate the Company's shady business for real unless we confront the officers and directors head-on. We need to see what they're up to in their colonies." He stood up, looking at Olaf and Anna. "My editor has provided me with a bit of money so we can hire a ship. We're going to follow a Company flagship and get the scoop that really damages the corporation, as Her Majesty wants."

"When do we set out?" asked Anna, still cradling a whistling Olaf in her arms.

"Elsa suggests in the coming week. She told me that Mariam has a particular distaste for Stefina, the overseer of the Company's opium trade." Reimund's eyes glinted. "So in the name of the Queen, we're going to ruin her reputation first."

"Oh this all so gossipy and devious," squealed Olaf, rubbing his twigs together. "We're going on an adventure!"

* * *

Elsa had never sought comfort in anyone's arms. Perhaps it was because she never _had_ anyone to run to. Usually she was more used to Anna running to her. It was never a burden, but sometimes she would wonder to herself, on the darker nights that she stayed awake on her bed, fretting over her kingdom's affairs: "_Who will hold me_?"

She had found her answer. Mariam's slender arms were wrapped around her, and she exulted in it as they lounged purposelessly the foot of a carpeted stairway. The Arabian queen sat a step above her, nuzzling the nape of her neck, and lightly pressing her nose against her exposed shoulder. The Sultanah's passion was overwhelming, beyond anything Elsa dreamed she could encounter. It was like a fantasy in her most secretive of dreams come to life. But it was not just an emotional partnership. They discussed everything, from their different traditions of governance to social injustice and more. Elsa shared with Mariam the history of Arendelle, how legendary men with strong frames, bloody axes, and an insatiable hunger for exploration carved out villages in the snow, which in turn became the first settlements of the desolate north. In turn, Mariam retold the story of Agrabah, of its genies and flying carpets, high culture and multifarious faiths, until a mighty religion from desert companions became the one true belief, uniting the empire under a single god and a single caliph.

They could talk endlessly into the night, or simply fall asleep wordlessly in each other's embrace. It didn't matter. As long as they were together, nothing seemed insurmountable, not even the Company.

"Are you like this to your courtesans and viziers at home?" wondered Elsa aloud, swaying ever so slightly from side to side as Mariam cradled her.

"My court is quite ritualized. From our dances to our conversations, formality and protocol rule the day, even for the Company officers that visit me," murmured Mariam, draping herself around Elsa's torso. "Even the brighter colors and louder music of my palace can't match Anna's lust for life, her exuberance."

"_You're_ full of life," said Elsa, clutching Mariam's hand. She kissed it playfully, nibbling at Mariam's willowy fingers and eliciting an amused rebuke from the latter. "You've been a godsend amidst these dark times of mine. I'm still so ashamed I couldn't stop the Company from occupying so much of Agrabah."

"This is no fault of yours. You may be the high ruler of this land, and blessed with mastery over the cold elements. But you're still one woman. You can't overcome every institution in Arendelle, just as I couldn't presume to wipe out the Company's armies with my fire magic alone. Their influence was more than simply muskets and cannons. They're changing the way we trade and barter in Agrabah, our entire economy. Someday, I think Arendelle and my kingdom will trade on equal terms, as the Company is forcing my people to do now."

"It's dinnertime," said Elsa softly, after several moments of reflective silence. "I've asked my cooks to surprise us, so I don't know what they've prepared…"

"I know. I've taken the liberty to visit the kitchens. I've had my attendants advise yours with some… new touches. I hope that's not too out of line."

Elsa blinked, looking back up at her lover. "Not at all, but… why?"

"My servants brought along some curries and spices from Agrabah. I thought you'd be interested to try it with some saffron rice and juicy mutton." Mariam grimaced. "I hate the Company, but I must admit their shipments arrived in a very timely manner, as I had paid for."

Elsa smiled. "I can't wait to try."

* * *

The Queen of Arendelle stared in wonder at the colorful shades of yellow and orange that brightened her meal. She felt like an inexperienced child looking at a wondrous new thing she'd never seen before. The thick, rich sauces had been poured on scrumptious chunks of stewed lamb, and were presented in bowls of pure gold and silver. The Arendellian cooks only needed to provide dessert, and tonight's selection was fresh fruit imported from the Southern Isles: juicy grapes, berries of colors blue, red, pink, and black, and even huge watermelons that could be crushed to make a sweet and refreshing drink. But for Elsa, the curry, made from ground seeds and herbs only found in Agrabah and its neighboring empires, was unsurpassed in its exotic taste.

"This is delicious," she declared, after she had gulped down a mouthful of curry mutton and rice. "I've never tasted anything like this. Now I know why the Company's spice trade has been so successful. I can't blame my aristocrats for their spice obsession. And this… rice… is a lovely alternative to our potatoes. I must ask our cooks to master Agrabah's culinary arts." She put a hand to her mouth, embarrassed to be talking so much. "I'm sorry… the best my chefs can offer you is roast venison and goose, and smoked salmon. It's the most expensive food Arendelle has. But it's surely boring compared to this curry."

Mariam smiled, lifting a grape to her mouth and gently biting it halfway. Juice squirted from its pierced skin. "Well, I ate this every day at home, so the pasture is always greener on the other side. But I've got more to offer. Agrabah has seen better days, when it was the conqueror rather than the conquered. We've absorbed many kingdoms in the past. Now, one province might specialize in yoghurt and sour sauces, but a neighboring county might be all about fish and seafood. Food is completely provincial and organic, which is what makes our regional cooking exciting."

Elsa chuckled, taking a sip of watermelon juice – no wine for her tonight. Reimund and Anna were already making preparations to leave the palace. She would need to coordinate with her royal guard new defenses against the ever more frequent intruders. "You came here on a diplomatic mission, but now I want you to teach me everything there is to know about your culture."

Mariam looked languidly at Elsa. "What else are you thinking about, Snow Queen?"

Elsa poked absently at her plate with her fork. Her smile had faded. "We have traitors in my palace. We aren't safe anywhere." She looked at Mariam across the long table. "The Company might not be our only enemy. I've already told you about the assassins that tried to dispatch both Kristoff and I. And whatever our differences over Anna and Hans, Kristoff would never want me dead. And I would never want him harmed in any physical way. Ever.

"There's someone trying to destroy everyone else, Mariam. This complicates our war against the Company. We might either be looking at some disgruntled enemy of Kristoff's, or perhaps a traitor in our ranks."

Mariam bit her lip, staring at Elsa uncertainly. "Do I sense correctly that you fear for Kristoff?"

Elsa couldn't meet Mariam's gaze. "I know you're his enemy. But he doesn't deserve death."

"Perhaps not. But you promised me justice for my people, Elsa. That can't be addressed unless you understand that my only enemy is the Company. I'm willing to instigate a war in my own kingdom because I trust it will help us both in our goal of dissolving the Company. That _will_ harm Kristoff in one way or another, whatever we feel about him. I'm duty-bound to hold you to that promise."

"I understand," said Elsa quickly. "And if I ever break that sacred vow, turn your flames on me and I will let myself burn. I'm just saying that we should dig in. Prepare ourselves for the long haul. And that will mean shifting alliances and enmities."

"That I can agree to." Mariam rose from her chair and walked around the table, stopping before Elsa's side. The monarchs from distant continents but brought close together stared at each other for several long moments. Then Mariam suddenly reached for the _mukhwas_, which were inside a goblet near the fruit. She held the fragrant fennel, coconut, sesame, and other assorted seeds before Elsa. "Take some and chew. They're coated in sugar and peppermint oil. I want your breath fresh so that our kisses will be even more pleasant."

Elsa blushed and did as told, taking a sprinkling and slipping the seeds past her lips. She scrunched her eyes as their flavors exploded in her mouth, astonishing her tongue with an overwhelming gamut of sweetness, mint, and slight bitterness. She swallowed, looking up at Mariam vulnerably. The other looked satisfied as she cupped Elsa's cheek. "I can see us both, felling our enemies together with the combined fury of fire and ice. Side by side, in unison. But I can also see more for us together, beyond all the diplomacy and war. Something more… domestic."

Elsa smiled sadly. Mariam's proposal was a wonderful idea, and she was touched at how deeply the Sultanah's affection ran. Now she was certain: Mariam had abandoned her harem for her alone, and she would never leave her. "But it may be some time before we can plan beyond our present concerns," said Elsa.

"That's fine with me," came the reply.

Elsa looked down, closing her eyes. "Will you be good to me?"

"I will," promised Mariam, gazing at the Nordic woman.

Elsa's red lips parted slightly. "Will you make me happy? Make me feel good?"

"Yes. In turn, may God make me worthy of you," whispered Mariam, taking a quivering Elsa in her arms, "and may he make us worthy of victory."

* * *

**Next Chapter: The Company struggles to maintain its hold over Weselton as Amira initiates her treacherous plans. How did Kristoff's humble ice company become a continental trading corporation? Stay tuned for the story of the North Mountain Company and its officers…**


	9. The Four-Nation Alliance

**FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**The Four-Nation Alliance**

* * *

A/N: How did the Company become a multinational merchant fleet with the power to grant Arendelle an empire? Elsa is about to find out – now she faces her greatest challenge yet as other nations react, understandably, negatively to Arendelle's new expansionism! How will Amira and Hans exploit the growing anger of other countries to bring down Elsa?

Elsa's statecraft and hold on power is about to be challenged like never before. The Disney world shudders as the nations amass for war against Arendelle.

Thank you very much for reading and as usual, please review or leave some feedback! I take your constructive criticism very seriously and do my best to fit them within the story (full disclosure: I have the story as a whole roughly planned out, but keep the developments within chapters organic and flexible).

* * *

Today was a good day to have a stroll in the sun-dappled royal gardens.

Elsa was walking with a very important guest. The man beside her was dignified and handsome, resplendent in dark blue robes that had the pattern of an embroidered dragon holding a pearl. This was no Arendellian dragon. It was like a scaled serpent, long, and winding, with magnificent antlers and a soulful, penetrating gaze. This magical beast was the five-clawed imperial emblem of the most powerful empire to the east. Her visitor's black hair was braided in a long ponytail, leaving his forehead bare. Apparently they called it a queue, styled by men to symbolize their submission to their ruler.

The vast and ancient land of Hua Mulan, the glorious Middle Kingdom of thousands of years, was a competitive trading partner to Arendelle and many other nations. The current ruling house was not descended from the same people as Mulan. Rather, its members were called Manchus, proud horsemen from north of the Great Wall. They had conquered the previous dynasty and founded the Great Jing: the "empire of purity". Their imperial domains stretched across entire landmasses – even larger than Agrabah's. And unlike Arendelle, China had no constitutional monarchy: the Emperor's will was absolute.

"I appreciate you coming all the way here, Prince Aisin Gioro," said Elsa, as they admired the blooming roses and peonies in the pleasant heat. "Please give my regards to the Son of Heaven when you return. You've been my friend and a helpful ear for a long time."

"We've always seen the value of mutual diplomacy, Your Majesty. Our governments aren't monolithic: there are many competing interests within. Those of similar ideals should stick together," said the Jing royal, his hands hidden in his long, folded sleeves. He looked admiringly at her blonde braids, letting his gaze linger on her gossamer blue dress and the slit that sometimes flaunted her leg. As the most favored son of the Emperor, he was used to getting the women he wanted – thousands of them. From the palace, from the villages, from the brothels, from the slave ships across the seas… wherever he fancied. His respect for Elsa's personal space and restrained glances were, for a Chinese prince, markers of immense esteem already.

"And you can count on my continued friendship in these difficult times. I received your many letters about the Company. What a nightmare. That's why I came. And I must be honest with you." The Manchu's almond-shaped eyes shifted cautiously as he revealed an elegant hand fan and snapped it open. Elsa could see meticulous artwork of mountains and clouds decorating the paper folds. He began to wave it at himself lightly. "I wasn't the only one who arrived at your ports yesterday. Rapunzel of Corona, an emissary from Weselton, and another gentleman from the Southern Isles are also here. I suspect your courtiers will arrange your audience with them soon."

"What's the diplomatic gossip?" Elsa asked her informant urgently.

Gioro looked around the gardens discreetly, before shuffling closer to Elsa. "Our ministers in the Forbidden City are about to sign an alliance with those kingdoms. And they want to boycott Arendellian goods," he whispered in foreboding. "I've always been your advocate in my country for foreign trade, but I can't outvote the entire conservative faction in my court. My enemies have powerful eunuchs and concubines supporting them."

The Jing noble swore to himself. "That xenophobic woman from the Yehenara clan. Damn her! She's won my father's favor. And she's angry at what the Company did in Weselton and the Southern Isles. She's already ordered the confiscation of all Company wares in China. If she orders someone to burn them, it'll hit the corporation's profits in our region hard. War will be certain, and she'll convince Father to join this new alliance."

"But what does Corona have to gain by allying with the Great Jing?" muttered Elsa worriedly. "I know Rapunzel. She and Eugene have come for sleepovers before. Why would she do this?"

"Corona's parliament is enraged that the trade deficit with Arendelle has widened so badly. It's because your North Mountain Company occupied Weselton! Weselton was once Corona's closest trading partner. The competition is hardly fair, especially when the Company has a monopoly on spice and ice."

The politically liberal Manchu's small eyes narrowed even further, his expression partly hidden by his spread fan. "And you know that your two new colonies won't simply lie down and obey the Company silently. It was only a matter of time before they sought allies to strike back at you. My country and Corona have the armies to fight you. To Corona and Yehenara's lackeys, you and the Company are but one and the same. It's the perfect excuse to put military pressure on you."

"Do you know who's been stirring all this up? It's not Kristoff, probably not his directors either. They wouldn't do something that would hurt themselves. Kristoff and I got ambushed by assassins just the other week!" Elsa put an urgent hand on the Chinese prince's shoulder. "Why is the Son of Heaven getting involved in this? I thought Jing was on my side."

Gioro shut his eyes, as if trying to remember a long-forgotten incident. "It's outlandish to suggest, but… I remember when my father destroyed the remnants of Shan Yu's tribe many years ago, when I was a mere boy. He finished Mulan's work. But there was one powerful warrior who escaped – a tribal princess called Amira."

He looked up, squinting at the bright sun and the cloudless azure sky. "Our armies never managed to defeat her because she was simply too strong. She fled not because she was scared of us, but because she saw her clansmen as too weak and unworthy of her protection." He knelt down by the side of the pavement to admire a particularly vermillion rose. They didn't have those in China. "Have you considered the possibility that this steppe warrior might be allied with the Company now? Hence their rapid victories in the past year or so?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. Why would this Amira now be agitating for the other side, for Weselton and the Southern Isles? "But the Company stands to suffer as much as I do if we fight a war."

Gioro took a sniff of the blood-red petals, still fanning himself. "Don't be surprised if Amira is pitting people against one another. She has no loyalty to anyone but her own lust for battle and glory. She just wants more chances to spread the flames of war. If she thought of anyone beyond herself, she wouldn't have abandoned her people when our armies routed them on the plains."

The Jing royal stood back up. "All this time, Kristoff has been very aggressive in developing his industries of ice, fur, spices, and opium. He sent his ice to the great lineages of your neighbors, whilst the director Baron Anskar sent fur to all the noble clans. Stefina brought opium to us, but it was Sigurd's spices that propelled the Company to true wealth. Staggering wealth. It's become the new currency of the world. All Kristoff needed to do was find men as ambitious and profit-minded as him, and the commissioning of great ships and armies would follow."

Elsa's eyes narrowed. She would have to remember those directors' names.

Aisin Gioro looked worriedly at her. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I can't stop the Emperor from throwing his weight behind the alliance. Your Company has done too much to make itself unwelcome in too many places."

Elsa shook her head. "You've already helped me so much, my Lord. Thank you. The least I could do is to ask my ministers to lessen the levies for your tea merchants."

"Oh, Your Majesty, you are a truly great diplomat. You were always easy to do business with," chuckled Gioro flatteringly, bowing deeply. "And I shall ask my father to invest more holdings in the Bank of Arendelle, so that your government can continue borrowing as much as it needs."

The pair smiled at each other. "Listen, Gioro… we trust each other, don't we? Personally, not just politically," said Elsa suddenly, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm proud to call you my friend, Elsa," said the other, pointedly dropping the honorifics.

"Have you ever loved a man? Someone more like yourself than a woman?" blurted the Queen of Arendelle, taking her guest by complete surprise. She had wanted to ask a fellow royal this question for some time. Somehow it felt even more embarrassing to ask Anna. And as usual, Anna was the normal one, falling in love with the stocky, manly Kristoff. And her? She'd given her virginity to an foreign beauty. To think their late parents had thought _Anna_ the quirky one.

Gioro's inclined eyes squinted even further at her. "You… have a woman?" he said craftily, hiding his curled lip with his fan.

Elsa turned away, rolling her eyes. "Nevermind. You probably think I'm crazy," she sighed.

Gioro smirked. "No, no, no. You can't just stop after that utterly random question. Are you asking me if I've desired my brothers like I desire my sisters?" He pursed his thin lips. "Well, I don't know why you ask, although I think I know why…"

"Look, if you're not going to help – "

"Alright, alright. I'll just say this: I'm a member of the Jing imperial family." He licked his lips. "I'm free to enslave whoever I want. Who dares judge me should I choose a man? We rule China. I lord over millions. And you, Elsa – you're a descendant of your kingdom's jarls. They took whomever they want. Women. Men. Children. The freedom to choose was theirs!"

"I don't know about your country, but we left our dark ages a while ago," muttered Elsa, rubbing her eyes exasperatedly. She wasn't bragging. She never mentioned it, but she had actually lobbied Parliament to ban slavery the first week after everything had settled down from the Great Thawing. Her authority and influence was enough to force through a bill of rights that abolished the vested interest her father had left untouched. And that was why Jing could no longer buy slaves from Arendelle.

Gioro wasn't so enchanted with this trendy notion of "liberty." He shrugged. "My point is, Elsa: if the realm's fate rests with you, why shouldn't your choice for pleasure and comfort also lie in your control?"

Elsa exhaled deeply. She had always worried about being judged, about fitting in. Once, it was because of her powers over the cold elements. Currently, while she wouldn't let anyone (least of all priests and moralists) condemn her love for another woman, it felt partially comforting that other peers of blue blood didn't seem so judgmental. Maybe she was overthinking society's norms: if the upper classes were hypocrites, then surely they didn't need to abide by their own kingdoms' sensibilities. "You do have some moments of tone-deaf wisdom, my Lord."

"So? Who's the lucky lady?"

"Not another word," sniffed Elsa. The Chinese prince sniggered shamelessly, beady eyes twinkling, and that was that.

* * *

Sitting stiffly on her throne, Elsa tried her best to maintain a guiltless expression as two finely uniformed representatives from Weselton and the Southern Isles threw a list of angry grievances at her feet. "You've robbed us of our sovereignty and replaced our ministers with greedy, cavalier merchants with no concern for proper governing, let alone the welfare of our people. Tell us why we shouldn't tell our leaders, our true leaders, to throw your administrators out!" cried the Weseltonian.

"Agreed!" cried the diplomat from the Southern Isles, who looked just as furious. "We dealt appropriately with Hans. His attempts to harm you and Princess Anna were reprehensible, but it's no excuse for you to abuse the goodwill of our Thirteen Princes!"

"The merchants who flout the people's trust will be replaced by competent civil servants who embody my love for my citizens," replied Elsa stiffly, wincing inwardly at every word. How condescending she must be have sounded. Here she was, telling the ambassadors of territories _her_ armies had occupied, that everything would be alright! She almost wanted to spill the beans, like she had to Mariam – it was the Company's entire fault for expanding their businesses so violently. But no matter what she said, she was still the Queen, and she had to own what her subjects did in her name.

The emissaries were barely held back from charging Elsa's throne by a beautiful young woman, who stood between them. Wearing a long, majestic pink dress that was relatively conservative, she had cropped brown hair and large and brave emerald eyes. She was no longer constantly barefoot, her feet now enclosed in a comfortable pair of fur slippers (also courtesy of the Company). Her green eyes now met Elsa's irises of arctic blue.

"I respect you, Elsa. Really. I don't want to do this at all. But Corona's been Weselton's ally for years. I… I'm sorry, but I have to approve sanctions on Arendelle. No more ice and spices from the North Mountain Company," said the vivacious (but older and wiser) Queen of Corona, Rapunzel.

"I understand your duties, Rapunzel," said Elsa desperately. "But tariffs against my corporations will only raise prices in both countries. No one wants an economic war, let alone a military one. Free trade is like glass: hard to make, easy to break." She remembered Prince Gioro's struggle to lobby for free trade with Arendelle against the more conservative circles in Jing. "Don't make the same mistake as the Chinese."

Rapunzel closed her eyes in reluctance. "Speaking of Jing… we're tearing up the free trade treaty with you too. We're breaking the Company's monopoly and stepping in with a few companies of our own. But the Company seems to have its own private armies, which harassed our merchants. Violently. I have the evidence if you need it. We can't just ignore this, Elsa. We're sending troops against the Company's thugs."

Elsa felt her stomach shrivel inside. _Kristoff, this is on you. The Company's board of directors have gone too far_!

She couldn't simply ignore the Company's deeds, yet she had responsibilities if other nations were to declare war on her people. "Don't make me do this, Rapunzel. I… I have to protect my subjects. And as much as it hurts me to say… the Southern Isles and Weselton belong to me now." She closed her eyes. It was painful just saying it. She felt like a wicked villainess. She had hoped to guide the Arendellian public to demand the government to dissolve the Company. But it wasn't something that could be done in a few months. And in the meantime, the Company was cutting a trail across the world that made her ever more enemies. She and Mariam needed to accelerate their plans for Agrabah's rebellion, but even that would need to wait. "I… have… an empire to defend. I won't allow the colonies to rebel."

Rapunzel stared at Elsa, biting her lip. "Don't apologize. You're just doing your job, but now I have to do mine."

"We don't have much, but we'll support you," said the Weseltonian ambassador to Rapunzel, looking at Elsa angrily. "Not even the Company and Arendelle's Royal Navy can resist our Four-Nation Alliance of Corona, Jing, and our occupied territories! Ah yes," he sneered, unaware that Prince Gioro had warned Elsa of Jing's participation earlier. "We have assembled a Four-Nation Alliance to punish you and the North Mountain Company. We _will_ have revenge and liberation. We're done with your occupation."

The Weseltonian and Southern Isles men glared at Elsa one last time, before stomping off rudely. But Rapunzel didn't look so sure, and managed a regretful curtsy before fleeing towards the door too. The mood was toxic, and everyone was eager to go home. Abandoned and alone, Elsa leaned back against her throne, fearful eyes to the high wooden beams above her. Anytime, it seemed the ceiling would collapse on her.

Thanks to the Company's crimes, she had four nations – two of them newly annexed – threatening to beat down the door to her empire. Sanctions from Corona. Trade embargoes from Jing. Restlessness in the Southern Isles and Weselton. And the painful irony was that she had never wanted this. Sometimes she wondered whether Hans was really the true villain. Could things get any worse for her?

Well, they were about to.

* * *

Something was wrong with Sven. Kristoff slowly approached the reindeer, who was gingerly grazing on a patch of grass in the middle of the forest clearing. "Hey. Sven. You okay?" he asked warily. What were they even doing in the grove?

"Sure," said Sven, whose face seemed blurred, unclear. "After I stab these villagers and throw their bodies into this ditch. Look! Their families are already inside it, might as well get them to join them in death."

"What the hell are you saying?" said Kristoff, perturbed.

"What? Humans aren't any good. Reindeer make much better friends!" chuckled Sven. "They're not as good as human slaves, though. No reindeer can work on plantations all day! Oh, and the killing too! Don't look at me, just ask your fellow man! I'm sure Anna must feel so proud of you. I bet you've killed so many, Elsa's all hot and bothered. I bet she wants a piece of you too now."

"Why are you saying all this, man?" cried a revolted Kristoff. "What's going on?"

Sven raised his head, and Kristoff stumbled back in terror. The reindeer's bloodshot eyes were twisted, evil, nothing like those of his usual self. Sven had no pupils, and pearly white maggots crawled visibly about in his gaping, bleeding nostrils. Rot had set into his fur, open wounds of flesh and bone clearly visible. His antlers reached high above his head, like a mass of claws or thorn branches, reaching menacingly for Kristoff.

Sven opened his putrid, worm-infested mouth slowly, as if relishing the horror from his master.

"But old pal, you made me like this. You and your hatred."

Then, to his horror, Kristoff realized what it all meant. Of course. Sven didn't know how to speak. He never did. Kristoff did all the talking. It was how he kept sane. Sven's voice was his own all along. Sven wasn't telling him anything. He was talking to himself.

_What have I become_?

Screaming, Kristoff backed away from Sven's demonic face, that hateful, mocking grin. He noticed too late that he was actually stark naked and slipped, falling into an abyssal darkness that seemed to be host to a hail of raining poppies. "What the hell?" screamed Kristoff, flailing about in vain as the red flowers rained down on him, before glimpsing the sneering face of Stefina.

"I was a tattered, starving girl when an opium dealer brought me into his world." Stefina's smile suddenly curled, inhumanly, into a sadistic grin. She grabbed Kristoff's groin roughly, carelessly, and he shouted in shame and pain. "Now I make other girls tattered and starving. People can be saved only when other families are damned. Thank you for your salvation," she cackled, brushing back her brown hair as she suddenly vomited out a repulsive pile of fecal matter. Kristoff landed painfully on his rear, scrambling away as Baron Anskar's smug, bearded head emerged from that pile of shit. Black gore flowed from his severed neck, trickling in a single direction: towards Kristoff's naked, shaking form.

The Governor of the Company looked around the endless, writhing darkness frantically. He could hear the ominous roars of unearthly beasts in the uncertain distance, and the paralyzing _drip, drip, drip _of sewerage. Was it water? Blood? It didn't matter. What fiendish dungeon of the slumbering mind was this?

"I'll never forget the day you came knocking on my manor door, boy," growled Anskar's bleeding head suddenly, and Kristoff swore loudly in fear. The fur trader's eyes rolled about madly. "You said you wanted to skin Hans alive, like I do my seals and bears and wolves. I could work with that. I've been in this heartless business for decades. You could use some help. I've always been the fondest of getting men to kill and enslave on our behalf. Such as it was in Agrabah. And all the others that will follow. You love the Princess, but do you actually feel disgusted by lovemaking? By the female bodies that lie bleeding on the shipdecks, twitching in pain with our soldiers' fleshly and metal appendages? Do you know how many women across our domains our officers have taken and polluted?"

Kristoff wanted to throw up. Feeling sick, he turned slowly around, sensing one more presence behind him. It was Sigurd, his director for spices. But his neck was snapped and head lolling near his collarbone. "This is better than suffering that damned sickness for the rest of my days, I suppose," said the living corpse, who was also completely naked. "I was born frail, and I wanted to be a doctor. But I discovered the joy of violating bodies for profit, and began to trade in the very people I was supposed to heal. You, in your desire to kill Hans, never judged me for what I did for a living. Thank you, my friend."

"Sigurd," whispered Kristoff, staring up.

"You wanted revenge, didn't you? You were fearful for your ice. For your debt. I'm not surprised you wanted to form a partnership with my merchants. Revenge means wealth. Now you have all the money you could dream of. Wealth means power. You've given Arendelle an empire and colonies. Power means damnation. And damnation – " Sigurd suddenly shrugged. "Well, that's the end already, really. You don't actually get revenge. What you want never comes round. And Hans is alive and well, by the way." He stared, eye sockets pouring blood, at the petrified Kristoff.

"You could make the Company the supreme power of this world, and Anna would still die."

* * *

"_NO_!" roared Kristoff in despair, shooting up from his bed and looking wildly in front of him in the darkness. Sweat slid off his broad chest, and he ran his clammy fingers through his matted blond hair. His heart was aflutter in a terror he'd never known before. Not even in the dark woods of the North Mountain, which he had named his business after, had he experienced such a nightmare. It felt real. Not only physically, but in his heart.

Sven wasn't here. Nor were his allies. Kristoff felt shivers running down his spine, like bugs crawling inside his skin and running along the bone. He swore to himself, clutching his face tightly as he curled up, not daring to lie back down. The room was completely peaceful, but the darkness felt like the black, bottomless dungeon he had thankfully woken out of. He had an urge to sprint to the barn to see whether Sven was safe. Or perhaps it was to reassure himself that his best friend hadn't become that accursed monster. The monster of his conscience.

Kristoff rubbed his eyes. That had been a long and agonizing nightmare. He hoped never to have a dream like that again.

He was in the bed of his room inside the palace. Despite Kristoff having made himself Elsa's enemy, the Queen had never asked him to vacate his guest room in the palace. In many ways it was due to simple pragmatism: he was still the Ice Master, and there was no sense in cutting each other off completely. This was simply a rivalry to protect Anna that had gone completely out of control.

He liked sleeping here in the palace, even when Anna couldn't really bring herself to spend too much time with him. He understood that. At first he thought handling Hans would be easy, and Anna would forgive his short campaign of reprisal. He had hoped Elsa would see his way of things and was initially confident that he could prove his ability to defeat Hans. But what had he achieved, despite amassing such wealth and power? Sigurd, or more accurately, his apparition, was right. Hans was still a free man.

He closed his eyes, still feeling Sven's diabolical antlers closing in around him like a bony cage. "It's taken longer. It's harder. I'm sinking in deeper," he muttered. "I'm not stupid, dammit. I know what's happening to me."

The voice of Sven, or more accurately, his own voice, screamed inside his head: "_Oppression! Deceit! __Slavery! Hypocrisy! Butchery_!"

Kristoff shivered in fear again, not sure what to make of the past few weeks' events. Why had it become this complicated? The plan had been simple: get rich, use all that gold to amass an army and navy Hans and his lackeys couldn't match, and then destroy them for daring to touch Anna. Now not only had an attempt been made on his life, he had to convene an urgent meeting with his board of directors to persuade them to extend an offer of truce to Elsa.

He rubbed his eyes. It wasn't just about Hans or Elsa now. He was slipping further into the darkness, and he knew it. Sven's sinister counterpart, that gruesome visage of Hell, knew it too.

* * *

"You can't do this," protested Mariam in Elsa's bedroom, her voice rising in barely suppressed outrage. "A truce with the Company? Another delay, and another lost chance to strike a blow to the directors? How long will I have to wait before I can order my subjects to start the rebellion?"

Elsa couldn't look at her sweetheart. They faced an alliance unlike any other, led by the Jing Empire and the Kingdom of Corona. "They're formidable foes. I must focus on one battle at a time. I can't let my realm fall, and if we need the Company on our side for the moment, then so be it."

"I won't step in the same room as Kristoff," fumed Mariam, grabbing Elsa's wrist furiously, staring into her blue eyes. "And now you've made peace with him! Why can't we strike now, while the Company is facing destruction? Because you fear for your territories more than mine?"

"Mariam, you're hurting me – "

Mariam suddenly held up her hand, and a crackling ball of flame burst into existence above her palm, frightening the struggling Elsa. "I'm your prisoner, and I'm fully aware and willing," she gritted, her dark skin illuminated by the flickering fire. "I sailed all the way here and put my fate in your hands to play that part. But I'm a prisoner out of goodwill, not out of necessity. I could envelop you in hellish flames right this very moment. I can burn down this palace without a dash of effort. Don't play me. Mock fire, and you'll get singed."

Elsa's lip trembled, her mouth as wobbly as her knees. "I know you feel betrayed. I've felt nothing but love and loyalty for you since I comforted you that night, when we first discovered each other's magic. I feel so powerless too, tossed about the seas like flotsam and jetsam. Even with Reimund, you, and Anna, I – " Without quite knowing why, tears began to stream down her face and she started to cry quietly, burying her face in her hands. She was fed up, fed up with it all. "Do you think I'm proud of myself right now?" she sniffled, as Mariam stared at her, stunned into silence. She hated herself for doing this to the Arabian woman. "Do you think I _want_ to disappoint you?"

The Sultanah's heart melted as she witnessed Elsa baring all her sorrows and vulnerabilities before her, and she quickly extinguished her magic fire. Her eyes softened. She took Elsa's face in her hands and pulled her close, lips meeting her nose, pressing on tearstained cheekbones, kissing away at her damp eyelashes. She tore impatiently at Elsa's dress, shredding away at the expensive cloth and silk with her long nails. Elsa could have easily willed the clothes back into existence, but she wanted to feel naked, to _be_ naked before her angry beloved. "I'm sorry," wailed the Snow Queen, as Mariam kissed her viciously, again and again, her hand squeezing her bosom almost painfully. She felt Mariam clasp her tightly to her ardent body, and she wrapped her legs and arms around the Agrabah monarch too, pressing her face on Mariam's shoulder as they tumbled clumsily on her bed. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Mariam tugged gently at Elsa's ponytail, and the latter obeyed with a quiet "ah!", arching her neck upward and letting Mariam attack her collar. She shut her eyes tightly at the overwhelming pleasure. Her kingdom was spiraling out of control. Giving herself up to Mariam's mouth and expert hands seemed so much easier, so much more rewarding.

"You're mine," panted the ruler of Agrabah as she gazed down at her lover, eyes wild in anxiety, frustration, compassion, lust, and a dozen other emotions. "The price you pay for my loyalty, and for me to join you in this war."

The tears were gone. Elsa nodded as the remnants of her dress were torn away and the ravishing began. "Show no mercy to me, Sultanah. I am yours forever."

* * *

"We've spotted Chinese war junks amassing alongside Coronese battleships, They're approaching the island shores," said a scout, kneeling before Elsa's throne. "Their main forces are buttressed by the Jing's Eight Banners cavalry, along with a large detachment of Corona's infantry. Ragtag remnants of the Southern Isles' forces and those of Weselton are on board with them too. I've been told they're being led by the Royal Consort of Corona – Rapunzel's husband, Eugene Fitzherbert."

Elsa bowed her head, defeated. "We have no choice," she sighed. "After three weeks of fruitless negotiations, I must fulfill my duty as the Defender of the Faith, the Queen of the Realm." Her blue eyes glimmered. "Prepare the Royal Navy. We must fight off this so-called Four-Nation Alliance." She never thought it would come to this. She looked to the man standing beside the scout. "Have you made your decision, Kristoff?"

The Governor, fresh in his red and black uniform, shifted uncomfortably. "You know this will only help my Company. Once we beat them, we'll impose a new round of treaties. And yes, it's to squeeze out Hans and any friends he has."

"Make no mistake. I don't want to do this, Kristoff. I'm really angry with you, to be honest. This should be the Company's fight alone. You brought this duty of defending an empire on me. You and your crazy quest for vengeance." Elsa glared at him. "But I'll let Reimund deal with your Company's crimes. You'll have much worse to deal with later. For now, I have to protect my people."

"My flagships will join the fight," said Kristoff, "and I've got four regiments of Presidency troops waiting. Give the word, and we'll fight."

Elsa took a deep breath. _Let me draw on your strength, Mariam_, she thought to herself. So this was it. This was the day Arendelle, at the peak of its imperial might, would take on four countries at once. This was the day that her very legitimacy to sit on her uncomfortable throne would be tested. This was her greatest trial yet. This was no longer just some campaign against a neighboring belligerent.

This was the first time in Arendelle's history that the kingdom would mobilize in total war.

* * *

**Arendelle versus the coalition of China, Corona, Weselton, and the Southern Isles.**

**Kristoff faces off against Eugene. ****Men will die… and hearts will break!**

******Next chapter: Bloodbath!**


End file.
